Skip to main content

Full text of "The psychic factors of civilization"

See other formats


EUG>Boone 




THE 



PSYCHIC FACTORS 



OF 



CIVILIZATION 



LESTER F. WARD 

AUTHOR OF "DYNAMIC SOCIOLOGY " 



BOSTON, U.S.A. 
GINN & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS 

1893 



COPYRIGHT, 1892, 
BY LESTER F. WARD. 



ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 

EDUCATION DEPF, 



GINN & COMPANY, BOSTON, U.S. 



The true place which mind fills in the scheme of nature is the most 
important truth to be learned in the study of philosophy. . . . The true 
order of development is from the non-psychic to the psychic, and from the 
less psychic to the more psychic, and not, as is popularly supposed, from 
the highest toward the lowest manifestations of this property. This great 
psychic paradox lies at the base of philosophy, and has ever been its funda- 
mental bane. Dynamic Sociology, II, 76. 

Le veritable esprit general de la sociologie dynamique consiste a con- 
cevoir chacun de ces etats sociaux conse'cutifs comme le resultat necessaire 
du precedent et le moteur indispensable du suivant, selon le lumineux 
axiome du grand Leibnitz : Le present est gros de favenir. AUGUSTE 
COMTE : Philosophie Positive, IV, 263. 



5 J f '? I 4 



PREFACE. 



What is writ is writ 
Would it were worthier ! 

BYRON. 

J'ay seulement faict icy un amas de fleurs estrangieres, n'y 
ayant fourny du mien que le filet a les Her. MONTAIGNE : 
De la Physionomie, p. 47. 

I have sought in this book to set forth two aspects of mind 
its cause and its use. But these two are really but one, 
since its use is its cause. 

Since I put the finishing strokes, ten years ago, upon a 
system of social science which I called Dynamic Sociology my 
mind at least, if not my pen, has been at work along two lines 
suggested by the recognized imperfection of that scheme. I 
have been prompted, on the one hand, to build the super- 
structure higher, and on the other, to lay the foundations 
deeper. In the first of these directions I have not only been 
impelled by my own inward sense, but I have been quite 
strongly urged by others who thought it was my duty to make 
a direct application of the principles of dynamic sociology to 
the living issues of the times, and who believed it better that 
this be done by one who had them in his grasp than left to 
others who might never fully feel their true significance. 

In the opposite direction, that of strengthening the founda- 
tions, the pressure has been entirely from within, and yet it is 
to this that I have yielded, partly because it was much 
stronger, and partly because I realized that it properly belonged 
to me to do, while the other more properly belongs to that 
trained army of social economists, now so rapidly increasing, 
who are studying and teaching by the inductive method. 



vi Preface. 

The object of the present work is to determine the precise 
role that mind plays in social phenomena. In the preface to 
the former one I enumerated five of the comprehensive princi- 
ples embodied in it to which attention had not previously been 
specially directed. Three of these related to the domain of 
mind. As I am still, so far as I am aware, alone in insisting 
upon the reality and importance of these principles, I will re- 
peat them here : 

"2. The theory of the Social Forces, and the fundamental 
antithesis which they imply between Feeling and Function. 

3. The contrast between these true Social Forces and the 
guiding influence of the Intellect, embodying the application 
of the Indirect Method of Conation and the essential nature 
of Invention, of Art, and of Dynamic Action. 

4. The superiority of Artificial, or Teleological, Processes 
over Natural, or Genetic, Processes." 

I then recognized, and so stated in the same preface, that 
there had been "adumbrations" of most or all of these prin- 
ciples, but the reader of the present work will perceive that 
all I said of them in the earlier one was itself only an adum- 
bration of the full truth as I have here sought to present it. 
I need not say, however, that I have undertaken considerably 
more than merely to expand the various conceptions vaguely 
hinted at or somewhat clearly set forth in 1883 ; I have 
joined others with them and constructed out of all the data 
that lay at my hand what may without exaggeration be re- 
garded as a practically distinct system, albeit closely connected 
with and directly affiliated upon the other. 

Partly to show this affiliation and enable the reader to ap- 
preciate, and if desired, to follow out the intimate relations 
and connections that bind the two systems together, and 
partly to indicate to what extent the leading tenets of the 
new were foreshadowed in the old scheme, I have intro- 
duced as preludes to all chapters and parts for which they 
could be found, passages from Dynamic Sociology embodying, 



Preface. vii 

if not the central thought, at least some collateral or subor- 
dinate idea involved in the discussion to follow. In a few 
cases I have borrowed such passages from some of the nu- 
merous contributions of a more or less popular character 
which I have made since the appearance of that work. Some 
chapters, however, there are which have had such a modern 
origin in my own mind that *io such earlier expressions could 
be found. 

In addition to passages of this class, designed to indicate 
the growth within me of the general scheme, and thus by 
historical associations to aid the reader in his endeavor to 
travel with me along the same road, I have hoped not merely 
to embellish the work but in a certain way to strengthen it 
by putting at the heads of the chapters in the form of 
mottos the thoughts of others that seem to embody or fore- 
shadow the principles involved. These utterances of the 
poets, prophets, and wise men of all ages show that there is 
scarcely a thought or a truth that has not found expression 
in some form, and that no scheme can hope to do more than 
organize ideas already expressed, and focalize the scattered 
light that pervades the intellectual world. At the same time 
the rarity of such utterances the search required to find an 
expression of truths so vitally important is more a matter of 
surprise than their actual discovery, and abundantly proves 
the need of systematic efforts to collect them together, ar- 
range them in logical order, and bring their combined weight 
to bear upon the thought and action of the age. I have thus 
sought to make this work something more than the product 
of a single brain ; I have sought to make it embody the wis- 
dom of the world so far as it relates to this theme. Those 
who prefer may regard it as a collection of exotic flowers of 
thought for which I have only furnished the thread of logic 

that ties them together. 

L. F. W. 
WASHINGTON, June 18, 1893. 



CONTENTS. 



INTRODUCTION. 

Nature of the social forces and mode of controlling them. The present 
work devoted to the expansion of these two principles. Both aspects of the 
subject psychological. Mind popularly restricted to intellect and the feel- 
ings ignored. Subjective and objective psychology. Illogical classifi- 
cations. The causational factor ignored. Practical side of objective 
psychology also ignored. An undiscovered faculty. A new psychology. 
Theorems to be established. 



PART I. 

SUBJECTIVE FACTORS. 
CHAPTER I. 

TWO KINDS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Cosmology and psychology. Leading cosmologies. Metaphysical 
speculation. Twofold revolution in philosophy. Modern psychology as 
the basis of sociology. 

CHAPTER II. 

THE DUAL NATURE OF MIND. 

The most difficult problems the first to be attacked. Laws of thought 
studied before the senses. Will and soul. Epistemology. Descartes, 
Berkeley, Hume, Locke. Kant's division of mind into sense and intellect. 
Reid and Stewart. Connection between the departments of mind. 



x Contents, 

CHAPTER III. 

THE PSYCHOLOGIC PROCESS. 

Indifferent sensation. Perception. Subjective and objective psy- 
chology. Specialization of the finger tips for perception. Sense of touch 
more specialized objectively than other senses. Taste and smell subjec- 
tively specialized. Prof. Clarke's theory of odors. Sense of hearing. 
Sense of sight. Material mediums of the senses. 

CHAPTER IV. 

SUBJECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY. 

Deals with sensations and their combinations. Intensive sensations. 
Pain and pleasure senses. Auditory and visual pleasure emotional. The 
emotional sense. External and internal sensations. The sympathetic 
system the seat of the emotions. Sensation and emotion distinguished. 

CHAPTER V. 

OBJECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY. 

Deals with perceptions and their elaboration. Registration of percep- 
tions. Elaboration of perceptions. Conception. Judgment. The Pla- 
tonic idea. Generalization. Reason. Memory and imagination. The 
creative faculty. The primary intellectual process, intuition. 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE CONATIVE FACULTY. 

The motor apparatus of the nervous system. Only responds to intensive 
sensations. Reflex action. The sensori-motor apparatus. Of the sym- 
pathetic system. The nervous system a compound individual. Supreme 
and subordinate centers. How connected. The ideo-motor apparatus. 
Rational actions. Why often unsafe. Will. Mental physics. The 
popular fallacy. 

CHAPTER VII. 

ORIGIN AND FUNCTION OF PLEASURE AND PAIN. 

The mission of science to dispel mystery. The origin of evil. Pleas- 
ure a greater mystery than pain. Neither necessary. Death not neces- 



Contents. xi 

sary. Immortal germs. Pleasure and pain the conditions to existence. 

Primary sensations intensive. Sense of feeling a means of warning. 

Pain protective. Purpose of pleasure. Pleasure and pain not oppo- 
sites. Each has its specialized nervous apparatus. Both positive. 
Nature has no concern for either. Pleasure means life; pain, death. 
Fallacy of asceticism. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

NATURE OF THE SOUL. 



Reasons for retaining the word soul. Immortality. Always made 
capable of pleasure and pain. Denned as the feelings taken collectively. 
- The full definition. Why not critically studied by philosophers. Ten- 
dency to degrade the feelings. The change in philosophy from the reason 
to the soul. The birth of the soul. Its development in geologic time. 
The soul the great transforming agent in society. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE PHILOSOPHY OF DESIRE. 

Restraints to motor action. Desire presupposes memory. Man a 
theater of desires. The word used in a generic sense. The various 
manifestations of desire. Want. Love. Higher cravings. Various 
affections. Conation. Desire a form of pain. Love is pain. Desire 
always seeks satisfaction. Satisfaction is termination. Corollaries. 
Desires the mainsprings of all action. They are the mind forces. 
Physics vs. psychics. The psychic force a form of the universal force. 
How desire differs from other pains. Presentative and representative 
pleasures. Pleasure consists in the satisfaction of desire. Desire com- 
pared to itching. Consequences of satisfying desire. Claims of pessi- 
mism. They must be met by argument. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE WILL OF SCHOPENHAUER. 

Schopenhauer's two philosophical heresies. Do not follow from his two 
fundamental principles. His pessimism. His will. Equivalent to desire. 
Its manifold forms. Superior to reason. Primary, intellect secondary. 
Schopenhauer produced a revolution in psychology. 



xii Contents. 



CHAPTER XI. 

REFUTATION OF PESSIMISM. 

Pessimism denies the existence of pleasure. Meaning of satisfaction. 
The real question. The answer. The optimistic hallucination. Its 
biologic meaning. Need of proof. Proof of presentative pleasure. 

Proof of representative pleasure. Are the sensations continuous 
or repeated? Illustrations. Pleasure an objective reality. Optimism 
exposed. The pessimistic standpoint. Pessimism the product of a hos- 
tile social state. Its antidote not optimism, but meliorism. 

CHAPTER XII. 

HAPPINESS. 

Happiness and pleasure fundamentally the same. Definition. Health. 

Why different diseases have different effects. Connection of the lower 
ganglionic centers with the supreme consciousness. Contentment distin- 
guished from happiness. Freedom from pain. Unsatisfied desires. 
Satisfaction of desire. The higher spiritual needs. Problem of greatest 
happiness. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

FEELING, FUNCTION, AND ACTION. 

Feeling. Function. Biological utility. Perfection as an end. 
Evolution as an end. Production of organic matter as an end. Feeling 
and function distinct. Their true relation. The psychological aspect 
distinguished from the physiological. Function the object of nature, feel- 
ing that of the creature. The struggle between nature and life. The 
theater of action. The object of man is happiness. Action. Society 
the sole beneficiary. The threefold truth. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

THE TRANSFORMING AGENCY. 

Organic development. Its one neglected phase. Normal and extra- 
normal agencies in evolution. Characteristics of the latter. Date of 
their appearance. Determined by nerve-structure. Creatures in which 
active. Identical with soul. Subjective evolution. Influence of insects 
upon plants. Origin of showy flowers. Of attractive and nutritious 



Contents. xiii 

fruits. Sexual transformations. Female supremacy. Male supremacy 
an anomaly. Taste in the lower creatures. Same as in man. The 
developed brain a secondary sexual character. Intellect a comparatively 
modern product. A twofold accident. Transformations wrought by 
human action. 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE DYNAMICS OF MIND. 

A dynamic agent in every true science. Metaphysics not a science 
because without such. The heart of nature. The head of nature. 
Feeling the mind-force. Dignity of feeling. The worth of woman. 
Desire a true natural force. Obeys the Newtonian laws of motion. 
Compared to physical forces. Love and the magnet. Electricity. The 
proof direct and not found in such analogies. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

SOCIAL ACTION. 

What should constitute history. Social action. Psychologic basis of 
sociology. Physical inferiority of man. Great transformations wrought 
by man. These unintended by nature. They constitute material civiliza- 
tion. Not necessarily progressive. Society not yet conscious of its end. 
Individualism. Grounds of social reformers. Arguments of individu- 
alists. Social inadaptation. Absurdities of individualism. Social re- 
form a constant necessity. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

SOCIAL FRICTION. 

The restricted field of ethics. Conduct distinguished from action. No 
progress in moral precepts. No scientific basis of ethics. Ethical 
system of Herbert Spencer. The moral sense dulled by iteration of 
precepts. Ethics better taught historically. Moral character cannot be 
improved by teaching. Demoralizes the teacher. Egotism engendered. 
- The moral state a product of social evolution. The moral code self- 
enforcing. Immorality to self. Supererogatory conduct. Charity. 
The scientific objection to charity. Tips and fees. Alms-giving. 
Superficial treatment of ethics. The ethical and sociological standpoints 
opposite. The ethical stage transitional. Removal of the necessity for 



xiv Contents. 

moral acts. The real moral progress. Its cause. Positive moral 
progress. Ethical science suicidal. Liberation of social energy. 
Relativity of evil. No essentially evil propensities. Desires, like other 
forces, need only to be controlled to be rendered useful. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE SOCIAL FORCES. 

One of the two primary doctrines of Dynamic Sociology. All important 
truths very simple. Foundations of the doctrine require strengthening. 
The philosophy of desire. Underlying principles. Science of mind. 
Sociology rests on psychology, not directly on biology. Force of the term 
" dynamic." Its use in the other sciences. It is in subjective psychology 
that the dynamic principle inheres. Social dynamics. Adumbrations of 
the principle. Its popular recognition. Slow progress of great truths. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

RECAPITULATION. 

The twofold nature of mind. Classification of sensations. Percep- 
tion. Conception. Judgment. Other faculties. Subjective psychol- 
ogy. The emotional sense. Pleasure and pain. Desire. The trans- 
forming agency, or soul. Chief results attained. The three objects or 
ends. Mental physics or psychics. Social transformations. The three 
objects applied to man. Social physics. 



PART II. 

OBJECTIVE FACTORS. 
CHAPTER XX. 

THE OMITTED FACTOR. 

Intuition. The human attribute. Effects of the omission. Man not 
wholly under the influence of biologic law. Cosmic epochs. The mind 
epoch. Test of a human being. The progressive faculty. The recog- 
nized faculties not advantageous. 



Contents. xv 



CHAPTER XXI. 

INTUITION. 

A new application of an old term. Principle of advantage. The direct 
method of conation. Inadequacy of this method. Practical devices 
of nature. Psychic development secular. Initial steps. Obstacles to 
the satisfaction of desire. Advantage of persistent activity. Directive 
brain centers. The stage of exploration. Experiments with the frog. 
Incipient intuition. Stage of full intuition. Psychic, not parallel with 
biologic development. In various animals. The practical quality of the 
intellect. The ultimate analysis. Psychic attraction. A perception of 
relations. Anschauung. Origin in the emotional sense. The new 
intuition is the incipient intellect. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

INTUITIVE PERCEPTION. 

Intellect developed as an aid to the will. Cunning as its fundamental 
form. Its practical character. It is a perception of relations. Ex- 
amples among animals. How called out in the reproductive process. 
Brain as a secondary sexual character. Its exercise in females. Influ- 
ence of the maternal instinct. Feigning. Animal sagacity. Examples^ 

Synonyms of cunning. Indirection the central idea. Manifestation 
in man. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

INTUITIVE REASON. 

Shrewdness and tact. Influence of foresight. Genesis of property. 
The human struggle for existence. Influence of institutions. Acquisi- 
tiveness. Business. Multiplication of the objects of desire. General 
ignorance of human nature. The arts of speech and silence. Distinct 
from intelligence. Ambition, how realized. Political intrigue and dem- 
agogy. Diplomacy. Strategy. Unity of all these types. A form of 
reason. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

PRINCIPLE OF DECEPTION. 

The key to success. Proofs from etymology. Deception in animals.. 

In man. Aided by optimism, Dread of poverty. Concealment of 



xvi Contents. 

desire. Of emotion. Disposition to neglect the weak and help the 
strong. Wealth a test of worth. Social life favors concealment. 
Character brought out by out-of-door life, hardship, etc. Forms of de- 
ception. Social parasitism. They are products of the biologic law. 
Survival of the fittest. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

INTUITIVE JUDGMENT. 

How differing from other forms of intuition. Perception of truth. 
Not a form of reasoning. Mistakes of the logicians. Whately. Car- 
penter. Psychological unity of intuitional judgments. Primarily employed 
in self-preservation. Relates to the future. Common sense. Popular 
intuition. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

FEMALE INTUITION. 

Its subhuman origin. Its practical uses. Developed through natural 
selection. A protective attribute. Constitutional caution. Based on 
experience. Constitutes conservatism. Women as reformers. This 
involves no inconsistency. Kind of reforms that women advocate. 
Positive -or active vs. negative or passive intuition. The latter involves no 
deception. Other contrasts. Twofold intellectual trunk. Courage vs. 
prudence. Homologies in biology and sociology. Equal importance of 
male and female intuition. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE INVENTIVE FACULTY. 

The intuitive faculty, as expended upon sentient beings. Upon human 
beings. Not restricted to these. Primarily directed toward physical 
objects. Why the earliest animals were aquatic. Higher requirements 
of land animals. Development of the directive faculty. New applica- 
tions of it by man. Ingenuity. Artificial devices. Origin of the invent- 
ive faculty. Animal ingenuity. Contrivances of plants. Aids in the 
chase. In agriculture. The pastoral stage. Clothing and shelter. 
War. Analogy in the development of human and animal means of offense 
and defense." Higher applications of the principle. Great modern dis- 
coveries. The real civilizing agent. Civilization defined. 



Contents. xvii 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

PSYCHOLOGY OF INVENTION. 

The inventive faculty compared with other forms of intuition. Subjec- 
tive and objective intuition. The former egoistic, the latter disinterested. 
- The two resultant classes of character contrasted. Comparison with 
intuitive judgment. Religious conservatism. Conservatism and invent- 
iveness inversely proportional. Essential nature of an inventive act. 
Close analogy of ingenuity with cunning. Control of qualities and forces. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

INVENTIVE GENIUS. 

Disinterested action connoted by the word genius. Objective tendencies 
of the inventive faculty. Pleasure in discovery. All labor involves skill. 
- Origin of art. All products artificial. Civilization artificial. The 
intellect as a transforming agent. Its modus operandi. Repeals the 
biologic law. Material civilization progressive. Compensation for the 
hardship of labor. Scientific discovery a result of inventive genius. 

Distinction between invention and discovery. The latter always useful. 

Value of truth for its own sake. Cultivation of inventive genius. 
Objections. Reasons for. The main argument. It is the public that 
needs educating. Popular ignorance of mechanical principles. These at 
least should be taught. Manual training. Education in the perception 
of utilities. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

CREATIVE GENIUS. 

Retrospective view. Domain of the current philosophy. Derivative 
faculties. The creative faculty. How different from imagination. 
Derived from the inventive faculty. The esthetic sentiment. Definition 
of the practical. The fine arts. Architecture. How creation diverged 
from invention. Absorption in the ideal. The brain an emotional center. 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

SPECULATIVE GENIUS. 

Faculties included. Genesis. Non-advantageous relations. Incon- 
trollable phenomena. Causation. Practical basis of speculation. An- 



xviii Contents. 

thropomorphism. Mythology. Theological and rational cosmology. 
Speculation upon mind. Modern psychology. Recognition of subjective 
psychology. Logic and mathematics. Abstract reasoning. Its biologic 
inutility. The growth of the speculative faculties as a proof of the trans- 
missibility of acquired characters. Speculative genius as a factor of 
civilization. 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE INTELLECT. 

Phylogenesis of mind. The restless search for causes. Comparisons 
with biology. Intellect a psychosis. No mystery involved. Mind a 
property of matter. The ontological obstacle to psychology. Intellect 
vs. consciousness. Supreme and subordinate consciousness. Does feel- 
ing accompany ideation? Intellect vs. knowledge. Subjective and 
objective knowledge. Experience. Acquisition of knowledge. The 
two intellectual stimuli. Intelligence. Intellect not a force. The 
prevalent error. In what sense a cause. Its modus operandi. Nature 
easily managed. Thought inheres in all work. Desires are blind. 
Instinct as a substitute for intellect. Psychology of intellectual direction. 
Conversion of means into ends. The mechanical " purchase." Classi- 
fication of intellectual activities. Bodily actions. Speech. Written 
communication. Man as a rational being. 



PART III. 

SOCIAL SYNTHESIS OF THE FACTORS. 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 

THE ECONOMY OF NATURE AND THE ECONOMY OF MIND. 

Definitions. The fundamental distinction. The animal economists. - 
Comte. Spencer. Uniformity of natural phenomena. Political econ- 
omy based upon this fact. The fundamental economic error. The 
omitted psychic factor. Two kinds of economics. Animal economics. 
Supposed economy of nature. False idea of perfect adaptation. Cause 
of adaptation. Means to adaptation not economical. Prodigality of 
nature. Huxley. Darwin. Examples. Views of Prof. Youmans. 



Contents. xix 

Of Herbert Spencer. Of Asa Gray. Progress achieved through nature's 
method. Not a rational method. The law of biologic economics. 
Importance of certainty. The twofold formula. Nature both practical 
and prodigal. Nature's failures and successes. Parallels in the physical 
world. Exaggeration of irregularities. Extinct and waning types. 
Character of genetic progress. The rational method imitated by nature. 
The two methods contrasted. The weapons of animals all organic. 
The rational the only economical method. Further contrasts. The 
environment transforms the animal; man transforms the environment. 
Superior economy of latter process. Economy of time. - Of energy. 
Dependence of man upon art. Meaning of labor and production. 
Civilization. The psychologic the reverse of the biologic law. The 
biologic law. The organic environment. Competition. Does not secure 
the survival of the fittest. This proved by domestication. This truth 
early perceived. Human progress the result of the struggle with competi- 
tion. The success only partial. Intellect itself a biologic product. 
Competition modified by reason. Competition in society ephemeral. 
Tendency to combine. Capital and labor. Competition between com- 
binations. Trusts. Monopolies. Waste prevented by combination. 
Aggressive competition. Explained by Prof. Patten. Displays the 
element of mind. Influences conducive to aggressive competition. 
Struggle to escape productive labor. Aggressive competition an em- 
bodiment of business shrewdness. Involves deception. Society not 
rational. Represents psychologically a very low organism. Comparison 
of aggressive with free competition. Cause of the pessimistic habit of 
thought. Competition distinguished from free individual activity. The 
latter secured by regulation. An illustration. Remedy for the evils of 
competition and combination. Psychologic basis of economics. The 
prevalent political economy. Its axioms questioned. Economic para- 
doxes. The prevailing system of political economy only applicable to 
irrational animals. The advent of reason has replaced the biologic by the 
psychologic law. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

MELIORISM. 

Psychic factors and progressive faculties. Will and intellect. The 
prevalent optimistic attitude. Dissatisfaction considered unreasonable. 
Governmental reform. Origin of government. Government not the only 
human institution. Benefits secured by government. What constitutes 
the artificial ? Laissez f aire. The artificial superior to the natural. 
The spirit of improvement. Civilization and progress not necessarily 



xx Contents. 

synonymous. Definition of progress. Unequal distribution. The prob- 
lem. Need of social action. Social friction. The social anachronism. 
The " human nature " argument. Human nature not essentially bad. 
How rapacity may be done away. A social, not an ethical question. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

SOCIAL CONSCIOUSNESS. 

Ambiguity of the word consciousness. Social units. Partial or incom- 
plete social aggregates. Universal or complete social aggregates. Their 
uniform object. Their powers. Government. School of misarchists. 
Who belong to a government ? Government as the organ of social con- 
sciousness. Analogue of the lower ganglia. Consciousness is a knowl- 
edge of a feeling. Further analogies. The social organism theory only 
applicable to the psychic aspect of the case. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

THE SOCIAL WILL. 

The individual will. All governments representative. Importance of 
a homogeneous people. Governmental failures. Their cause. Analogy 
in the individual. All failures due to ignorance. Government applies 
the direct method of conation. Functions of government. Narrow 
views that prevail. Sensitiveness of modern governments to the social 
will. The powers of government derived not from the consent but from 
the expressed will of the governed. 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

,THE SOCIAL INTELLECT. 

The two fundamental truths. Early manifestations of the collective 
intellect. Attractive legislation. Ingenuity in law making. No naturally 
evil propensities. Desires can be changed. Education. The organ- 
ization of happiness. Legislative reform. The movement already begun. 

The committee as a scientific body. Administration. Bureau legisla- 
tion. Value of history. The statistical method. No revolution needed. 

Looking backward. 



Contents. xxi 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

SOCIOCRACY. 

Social science and social art. Feeble integration of the social con- 
sciousness. Initial means to social progress. Present and past govern- 
ments empirical. Forms of government. Names no index to their real 
character. Government a mode of acquisition. Fear of government. 
Egoistic spirit not changed. Advantage taken of the weakness of democ- 
racy. Physiocracy. Plutocracy. Its specious arguments. Political 
economy. The plutocratic regime. The iron law of wages. Evils 
entailed. Misarchy fostered by plutocracy. The psychic aspect. Gov- 
ernment fails to protect. Power of plutocracy. Its extortions. The 
remedy. Sociocracy . Society as an individual. An insensible grada- 
tion from democracy to sociocracy. Majority rule. Party government. 
Parties not necessary. The business of a nation. Evils of partisan- 
ship. Sample problems for solution. Postal telegraphy. Monopoly 
prices. No change in human nature required. Ideal systems. Signs 
of an approaching change. The industrial party. Removal of social 
evils. Provinces of social and individual action. Natural monopoly. 
The scientific method. State industries. Social experimentation. 
Statement of problems. Enlargement of state functions. 



INTRODUCTION. 



In any department of phenomena the laws, whose establishment gives it 
the character of a true science, depend upon the operation of certain forces 
prevailing within that department which underlie, or rather constitute, the 
causes of which the phenomena are the effects. Dynamic Sociology, 
I, 458-459- 

Quoique la conception statique de 1'organisme social doive, par la nature 
du sujet, constituer la premiere base rationelle de toute la sociologie, comme 
je viens de 1'expliquer, il faut neanmoins reconnaitre que non-seulement la 
dynamique sociale en forme la partie la plus directement interessante, 
principalement de nos jours, mais surtout, sous le point de vue purement 
scientifique, qu'elle seule acheve de donner, a 1'ensemble de cette science 
nouvelle, son caractere philosophique Is plus tranche^ en faisant directement 
prevaloir la notion qui distingue le plus la sociologie proprement dite de la 
simple biologic, c'est a dire 1'idde mere du progres continu, ou plutot 
du developpement graduelle 1'humanite'. AUGUSTE COMTE : Philosophic 
Positive, IV, 262. 

Die Philosophen vor Kant, wenige ausgenommen, haben die Erklarung 
des Hergangs unseres Erkennens von der verkehrten Seite angegriffen. 
Sie giengen namlich dabei aus von einer sogenannten Seele, einem Wesen, 
dessen innere Natur und eigenthumliche Funktion im Denken bestande, 
und zwar ganz eigentlich im abstrakten Denken, mit blossen Begniffen, die 
ihr um so vollkommener angehorten, als sie von aller Anschaulichkeit ferner 
lagen. SCHOPENHAUER : Welt als Wille iind Vorstellung, II, 312-313. 

While many of the minor doctrines promulgated in Dynamic 
Sociology in 1883 have been laid hold of by different classes 
of writers and made the basis for further sociologie and eco- 
nomic discussion, it is noteworthy that the two most fundamental 
and important of all, viz., those relating to the nature of the 
social forces and to the control of those forces, have been, so 
far as I am aware, completely ignored. This fact alone would 



2 Introduction. 

seem to justify a renewed attempt to draw attention to these 
two paramount considerations. If it cannot be shown that 
society is a domain of true natural forces the claim to the 
possibility of a social science must be abandoned. Supposing 
such a claim to be sustained, if it cannot be shown that social 
phenomena can be controlled as physical phenomena are con- 
trolled by a knowledge of the laws according to which they 
occur, the hope of improving the social condition of man as his 
physical condition has been improved must be given up. All 
therefore that is essentially dynamic in sociology, whether in 
the more literal sense of dealing with a force, or in the freer 
sense of involving movement or progress, hinges directly upon 
these two doctrines, and must stand or fall with them. 

It is the purpose of the present work to elaborate these two 
conceptions and to show what scientific foundation they possess. 
They are sufficiently distinct to be treated separately, and their 
logical order is that in which they have been mentioned. This 
renders possible a convenient subdivision of the work into its 
two parts, the first part dealing exclusively with the forces 
of society and the second with the mode of directing those 
forces. 

A closer view will show that this subdivision has a wider justi- 
fication in the essential nature of the problem itself. At the 
same time it will show that the two questions to be discussed 
are not so greatly unlike in their internal elements as not to 
belong fo the same general branch of science. Indeed, a little 
inspection of them will reveal the fact that in dealing with 
either the one or the other we are necessarily dealing with the 
phenomena of mind, but at the same time it is clear that the 
first relates to a very different department of mind from that 
to which the second relates. In other words, we have before 
us a twofold psychic problem, and it should surprise no one to 
learn that sociology as a whole rests primarily upon psychology. 
This is its natural basis in the hierarchy of the sciences. Even 
the social activities of animals are due to their psychic faculty, 




- /ytkV s*^_^,^ Q 

Introduction. 3. 

and this is as true of bees and ants as it is of wolves or buffa- 
loes. Human society, therefore, which is the highest product 
of evolution, naturally depends upon mind which is the highest 
property of matter. 

The chief difficulty in enforcing this truth lies in the vague- 
ness of the popular conception of mind. It will be shown in 
its proper place how it has come about that most persons are 
in the habit of including under the term 'mind only so much 
as is properly embraced by the word intellect. The feelings 
and emotions are excluded, and it becomes necessary to explain 
that, in its true scientific sense, mind rjroperly^jncludes all 
phenomena above those which are simply vital, or relate only 
to life. 

The first task is therefore to show that it is this little studied 
and imperfectly understood side of mind that constitutes the 
groundwork of the social forces. Reasons will be given for* 
looking upon this affective faculty or department of mind as 
subjective, in contradistinction to the thinking faculty, which 
will be looked upon as objective. These two phases or depart- 
ments of mind constitute a basis for the subdivision of the 
science of psychology into its two great natural branches, and 
we have subjective psychology on the one hand and objective 
psychology on the other. These branches of the science are 
capable of being treated separately, though not independently. 
Though they are but the obverse and reverse of the same coin,, 
still, as much study may be devoted to the separate inscriptions 
on the two sides as each may require. 

So simple and natural is this subdivision of psychology that 
the wonder is that it has not always been employed. Yet so 
far is this from being the case that Kant was the first philoso- 
pher distinctly to formulate it, and he immediately abandoned 
it and seemed to regard the objective branch as constituting 
the whole of philosophy. Most modern writers on mind, as 
well as all ancient ones, likewise either ignore the subjective 
branch, or recognize it only in its highest and most derivative 



4 Introduction. 

aspect, viz., in the will or conative faculty, which they do not 
analyze or trace to its source in simpler phenomena. Even so 
logical a writer as Mr. Alexander Bain, as shown by the titles 
of his two important works on "The Senses and the Intellect," 
and "The Emotions and the Will," which appeared in this 
order, does not adopt the simple classification I have indicated, 
but uses the Senses to introduce the intellect directly, and 
deals with the Emotions afterward as if they constituted all 
there is of the feelings. 

Finally, no one seems to have seen in the subjective phenom- 
ena of mind any great causational factor as the motive power 
of human activities or as a basis for the scientific treatment of 
social phenomena ; and this is as true of those who are devot- 
ing themselves to social science as to those who confine their 
labors to any department of mental science. 

The second task will be to point out in what manner the 
social forces can be brought under the control of the intellect. 
Here it is true, we are fairly back in the well-trodden field of 
objective psychology. It is in this field that all the great 
thinkers of past ages have displayed the highest flights of 
genius. Surely we ought to be able to profit largely by the 
labors of so many wise men. But the moment we approach 
the problem in hand we find that it has been practically 
untouched. Although fairly within the great domain of 
intellect, reason, and thought, which has so absorbed the 
energies of the race, we find that this only practical avenue to 
its exploration, has been lost sight of, and that all this wealth 
of learning and depth of penetration have been expended on 
problems that are without value to sociology and incapable of 
being applied to any system looking to the well being of the 
race. In fact it would seem that every faculty of the mind 
had been discovered, analyzed, and exhaustively described 
except the only one that has been employed in the work of 
human progress, and this has gone unperceived. The so-called 
faculties of the intellect have been unduly multiplied to furnish 



Introduction. 5 

material for metaphysical research, but the primary and 
foriginal faculty, that which distinguishes intellect from every- 
/ thing else and has lifted man above the brute, cannot be found 
[ included among these manifold faculties. 

The second problem, therefore, viz., that of objective 
psychology as the directive element in sociology, is as new 
and unsolved as the first, and we find ourselves confronted 
not only by a new sociology but by a new psychology. 

The following then are the two theorems which require to be 
established : 

1. The phenomena of subjective psychology, viz., the 
feelings taken collectively, properly called the soul of man, 
constitute the dynamic element of society, or the social forces. 

2. The initial, original, or primary characteristic of objective 
psychology, viz., the intellect proper, or intuitive faculty, con- 
stitutes the directive element of society, and only means by 
which the social forces can be controlled. 



PART I. 

SUBJECTIVE FACTORS. 



Imagine the world peopled by myriads of living and active beings of all 
kinds and forms of diversity. They are all in contact with all the other ob- 
jects existing about them, and a prey to all the vicissitudes which a con- 
stantly changing world presents. Without feeling, they must be without 
sense or intimation of danger, and rapidly, through frequent exposure to 
those agencies which destroy their organization, they would, one by one, 
disappear before the adverse elements that everywhere surround them. 
The utter extinction of every form under these circumstances could be but 
a question of time, and all actual life would vanish from the globe. But let 
us suppose some to be slightly endowed with the susceptibility to pain. 
These would, in proportionate degrees, shun the agencies calculated to de- 
stroy their organization, because such would also be, on the hypothesis, the 
ones which would produce pain. The forms thus endowed would, therefore, 
survive longer in proportion to the degree of sensitiveness to pain. *Thus, 
under the now clearly understood law of " natural selection," the number of 
sentient beings would increase, while the insentient ones would become ex- 
tinct, and we should have the world substantially as we actually see it. 
Dynamic Sociology, II, 114115. 

If we open almost any modern text-book of psychology, we shall find mind 
divided into ' Intellect, Feeling, and Will'; and we shall be told that these 
are three aspects of mind ' that the Feelings ' are qualia of other mental 
contents and inseparable from them. We dissent from this view, and hope 
to substantiate our rejection of it by considering mental phenomena in con- 
nection with our biological origin and neurological development. DR. 
HERBERT NICHOLS : Philosophical Review, July, 1892 (Vol. I, p. 404). 



CHAPTER I. 

TWO KINDS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

L'homme n'est qu'un roseau le plus faible de la nature, mais c'est un 
roseau pensant. PASCAL: Pensees, II, p. 84. 

All that which until recent times was included under the 
name philosophy, but which, if not abandoned altogether, is 
now divided up into a great number of special branches, may 
be comprehended under the two general heads, Cosmology and 
Psychology. As soon as men began to think on abstract ques- 
tions they set about trying to find out either where they were 
or what they were ; i.e., they either studied the world in which 
they found themselves, or else they studied themselves. In 
studying the world they did not study this world which im- 
mediately surrounded them, but all worlds the great world or 
universe. In studying themselves they did not study the 
physical man, perceptible to the senses, but the immaterial 
part, or mind. The study of the universe, at first largely theo- 
logical, and later more and more naturalistic and scientific, may 
be properly called cosmology. The study of the mind, in which 
at first the human and the divine were much confounded, but 
which later was more and more restricted, and at last definitely 
connected with the brain and nervous system, now goes by the 
name of psychology. 

Passing over the great theological cosmologies as set forth 
in the sacred books of India, China, Assyria, Persia, Egypt, 
Phenicia, and Palestine, mention may be made of the more 
rational cosmologies of Greece, such as those of Thales, Pytha- 
goras, Anaximander, Democritus, the Stoics, and Aristotle, 
those of the Alexandrian school, and that of Lucretius in Rome, 
the Christian cosmologies of St. Augustine, and the schoolmen, 
including that of Cosmas Indicopleustes, and among moderns, 



io Subjective Factors. 

the more rational speculations of Bacon, Hobbes, Descartes, 
and Spinoza, culminating in the substantial discoveries of 
Copernicus, Kepler, Galileo, Leibnitz, and Newton. 

Looking next at the efforts to explore the mind, it may be 
said to have commenced much later and to have been more 
exclusively confined to the great intellectual races of Europe. 
Beginning with Socrates and Plato, the movement was given a 
definite form by Aristotle, who drew in his physics and meta- 
physics the same distinction here made between cosmology and 
psychology. In medieval times metaphysics was a leading 
branch of learning, and in the hands of Thomas Aquinas, 
Duns Scotus, and the other dialecticians, was brought to the 
highest point of scholastic nicety. The more serious study of 
the mind was inaugurated by Descartes, Spinoza, and Locke, 
continued by Berkeley, and brought to its greatest perfection 
by the Scottish and German schools, Reid, Hume, Stewart, 
Brown, Hamilton, in Scotland, and Kant, Fichte, and Hegel, 
in Germany. 

The above may be taken as a bare outline, without any at- 
tempt at completeness, of these two great streams of human 
thought down to the beginning of the scientific era. 

Both of these great branches of philosophy have undergone 
within the past hundred years an almost complete revolution. 
This has, of course, been due primarily to the ushering in of 
the scientific epoch, by which not only have the students of 
both the macrocosm and the microcosm been put into posses- 
sion of a vastly increased fund of knowledge about which to 
philosophize, but an almost entirely new method of reasoning 
has been made necessary, viz., the inductive or scientific 
method. In addition to these two causes, however, there is a 
third, which is perhaps more potent than either of the others. 
This is a change in the attitude or spirit of inquiry. Whereas 
before, it was often considered sufficient if the proof of any 
proposition was brought forward in due logical form, according 
to Aristotle's dictum de omni et nullo, and the truth or falsity 
of the premises was scarcely ever challenged, under the scien- 



Two Kinds of Philosophy. 1 1 

tific spirit the objective truth of the proposition was regarded 
as the real end to be attained, instead of the faultlessness of 
the reasoning process. 

The revolution in cosmologic philosophy brought about by 
these causes resulted, as already intimated, in replacing the 
barren speculations and ingenious theories of how the universe 
might have originated and might be constituted, by that mass 
of known truth and of legitimate deductions therefrom which 
constitutes to-day the philosophy of science. 

The revolution in psychologic philosophy, also due to the 
accumulation of facts and the gradual adoption of the scientific 
method and spirit, has been two-fold. The normal advance, 
parallel to that made in cosmology, has culminated in the new 
science of psychology, as taught in the leading institutions of 
learning, often under the names physiological and experimental 
psychology and psycho-physics, which studies the phenomena 
of mind from the standpoint of scientific observation and ex- 
perimentation. This is undoubtedly the true road to a knowl- 
edge of mind in its relations to body, and, though still a young 
science, it promises the most important results. 

But experimental psychology cannot claim to have done away 
entirely with the necessity for the study of mind from the 
broader and more strictly philosophical standpoint, and such a 
study, under the vivifying influence of the scientific spirit, has 
inaugurated another revolution or change of front in psychology 
which has already begun to make itself felt, and promises 
a grander future even than that promised by the experimental 
study of the organs of the mind. This enthusiastic claim will 
be better understood when it is shown that there is included in 
this promise nothing less than the establishment upon a psycho- 
logical basis of a true science of sociology in all respects 
parallel and identical with the other less complex sciences of 
the hierarchy. It is to this branch of psychologic progress that 
I desire to direct special attention, and it is this revolution in 
the study of mind that constitutes at once the inspiration of 
this book and the hope for the future of social science. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE DUAL NATURE OF MIND. 

The fundamental distinction here forshadowed rises immediately out of 
that which subsists between subject and object. Sense may be defined as 
the subjective, intellect as the objective, side of mind. Dynamic Sociology, 



Nur so viel scheint zur Einleitung oder Vorerinnerung nothig zu sein, 
dass es zwei Stamme der menschlichen Erkenntniss gebe, die vielleicht aus 
einer gemeinschaftlichen, aber uns unbekannten Wurzel entspringen, namlich 
Sinnlichkeit und Verstand, durch deren ersteren uns Gegenstande gegeben, 
durch den zweiten aber gedacht werden. KANT : Kritik der reinen Ver- 
nunft, pp. $1-52. 

Unsere Erkenntniss entspringt aus zwei Grundquellen des Gemiiths, 
deren die erste ist, die Vorstellungen zu empfangen (die Receptivitat der 
Eindriicke), die zweite das Vermogen, durch jene Vorstellungen einen 
Gegenstand zu erkennen (Spontaneitat der Begriffe); durch die erstere wird 
uns ein Gegenstand gegeben, durch die zweite wird dieser im Verhaltniss 
auf diese Vorstellung (als blose Bestimmung des Gemiiths) gedacht. 
KANT : Ibid., p. 81. 

We do not infer the existence of objective realities by any act of the 
Reason; in fact, the strict application of logical processes tends rather to 
shake than to confirm the belief in the External World ; but our Minds. 
being at first subjectively impressed by the qualities of matter, we gradually 
learn to interpret and combine the impressions they make upon our con- 
sciousness, so as to derive from them a more or less definite notion of the 
object. W. B. CARPENTER : Mental Physiology, pp. 177-78. 

It has become a trite remark that the most difficult problems 
presenting themselves to the mind of man for solution have 
always been the first to be attacked. This is well exemplified 
by the manner in which the. early philosophers began the study 
of themselves as distinguished from their surroundings. They 
did not begin with the study of their bodies, much less of the 



The Dual Nature of Mind. 13 

bodies of animals that are constructed upon substantially the 
same general plan as their own. They began by the study of 
mind, the most mysterious and intangible subject conceivable. 
Not only so, but instead of investigating their powers of tast- 
ing, smelling, feeling, hearing, and seeing the objects about 
them, which would have been comparatively simple, they 
plunged at once into all the intricacies and complexities of 
the thinking and knowing faculty. Plato devoted his life to 
the elaboration of his doctrine of the idea, Aristotle laid down 
the laws of syllogistic reasoning, and the later philosophers 
down to Kant scarcely did more than iterate and imitate the 
teachings and methods of these ancient masters and draw out 
their theories of mind into fine-spun subtleties. Mingled with 
these in a vague way were prolonged discussions upon the 
nature of the human will and the divine will, which was held 
to be "free " and was treated as something wholly sui generis. 
Along with all these doctrines there also went profuse disser- 
tations on the "soul," usually conceived as a distinct entity 
and endowed with immortality. Thus the intellect, the will, 
and the soul, each ontologically conceived, became, after the 
universe itself, the chief subjects of philosophy. The critical 
analysis of modern times has shown each of these fields of in- 
vestigation to be vast and involved, its facts and phenomena 
to be compound and complex, and its history and genesis to 
lead far back through the labyrinth of organic evolution to the 
dawn of the psychic faculty. 

The manifold speculations about the mind, by which was 
always meant the intellect, for it was not conceived that either 
the will or the soul really belonged to the mind, were chiefly 
confined to the department which is now called epistemology, 
i.e., to the question whether there is any real external world, or 
whether it may not be all simply a subjective train of mental 
operations. Descartes thought he was at least sure of his own 
existence because he was able to think, and Bishop Berkeley, 
Hume, and many other learned men could get no further than 



14 Subjective Factors. 

this. Locke did a noble work in showing that ideas come 
through the senses, and Kant carried this truth further by 
predicating the dual nature of the mind, i.e., its division into 
sense (Sinnlichkeif} and intellect ( Verstand). He aptly char- 
acterized these, sometimes as the two trunks of human intelli- 
gence, sometimes as the two fundamental sources of the mind, 
but, as will be seen later, he made no further use of the first- 
named of them than to show that through it alone the intellect 
receives the materials for thought ; or, as he expresses it : it is 
through sense that the object is given and through intellect 
that it is thought. 

Reid and Stewart of the Scottish school showed still more 
clearly this dependence of the intellect upon the senses as the 
primary source of all ideas, and this relation may now be said 
to be accepted by all philosophers. But beyond this stage at 
which the intellect is shown to consist of variously com- 
pounded and elaborated perceptions derived through the senses, 
scarcely another step has been taken in the direction of com- 
pleting the explanation of this relation, or of connecting it with 
the soul on the one hand or with the will on the other. When 
the emotions are to be treated they are treated independently 
of all this previously established psychological truth, and when 
the conative powers are to be dealt with they are dealt with as 
a distinct faculty without antecedent or bond of adhesion to any 
other branch of the system of psychic phenomena. 

That a natural connection exists between all these depart- 
ments of mind it is one of the chief purposes of these pages to 
show. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE PSYCHOLOGIC PROCESS. 

Mind has two sides, an obverse and a reverse. The one begins with 
sensation and ends with sentiment ; the other begins with perception and 
ends with reason. The one constitutes the feelings, the other the intellect. 
The tendency in all ages has been to ignore the former of these great 
divisions of the mind, which is essentially the primary one ; or, if recognizing 
it at all, to sublimate it into an intangible something called the will, which 
no two philosophers could agree in defining, and no one succeed in compre- 
hending ; while, at the same time, the glories of the intellect have been un- 
duly extolled, and the impression created that mind consists solely of intel- 
lect and will. Dynamic Sociology, II, 123. 

Hier ist eine Stufenleiter derselben. Die Gattung ist Vorstdlung iiber- 
haupt (repraesentatio\ Unter ihr steht die Vorstellung mit Bewusstsein 
(perceptio\ Eine Perception, die sich lediglich auf das Subject als die 
Modification seines Zustandes bezieht, ist Empfindung (sensatio} ; eine 
objective Perception ist Erkenntniss (cognitio). Diese ist entweder An- 
schauung oder Begriff (intuitus vel conceptus}. Jene bezieht sich unmittelbar 
auf den Gegenstand und ist einzeln ; dieser mittelbar vermittelst eines 
Merkmals, was mehreren Dingen gemein sein kann. KANT : Kritik der 
reinen Vernunft, p. 261. 

Taking as the basis of the knowledge possessed by Man of any object 
external, to him (and therefore of the External World generally), first, a sub- 
jective Sensation called forth by the presence of that object ; secondly, the 
recognition cf the externality of the cause of that sensation ; and thirdly, 
the formation of a notion respecting the quality of the object which called 
it forth, we have next to inquire into the mode in which such elementary 
Notions or Cognitions (which are afterwards to be combined into the com- 
posite Idea of the object) are generated. W. B. CARPENTER: Mental 
Physiology, p. 184. 

Every sensation, to be known as one, must be perceived ; and must so be 
in one respect a perception. Every perception must be made up of com- 
bined sensations ; and must so be in one respect sensational ... Sen- 
sations are primary undecomposable states of consciousness ; while per- 
ceptions are secondary decomposable states, consisting of changes from one 



1 6 Subjective Factors. 

primary state to another. Hence, as continuance of the primary states is 
inconsistent with the occurrence of changes, it follows that consciousness of 
the changes is in antagonism with consciousness of the states between which 
they occur. So that perception and sensation are, as it were, ever tending 
to exclude each other, but never succeeding. Indeed, consciousness con- 
tinues only in virtue of this conflict HERBERT SPENCER : Principles of 
Psychology, I, p. 475. 

The first of these elements, originally an excitement, becomes a simple 
sensation ; then a compound sensation ; then a cluster of partially presenta- 
tive and partially representative sensations, forming an incipient emotion ; 
then a cluster of exclusively ideal or representative sensations, forming an 
emotion proper ; then a cluster of such clusters, forming a compound 
emotion ; and eventually becomes a still more involved emotion composed 
of the ideal forms of such compound emotions. The other element, be- 
ginning with that immediate passage of a single stimulus into a single 
motion, called reflex action, presently comes to be a set of associated dis- 
charges of stimuli producing associated motions, constituting instinct. 
Step by step arise more entangled combinations of stimuli, somewhat 
variable in their modes of union, leading to complex motions similarly 
variable in their adjustments ; whence occasional hesitations in the sensori- 
motor processes. Presently is reached a stage at which the combined 
clusters of impressions, not all present together, issue in actions not all 
simultaneous ; implying representation of results, or thought. HERBERT 
SPENCER : Data of Ethics, I, p. 105. 

When the end of the finger is placed against any material 
object two results follow. There is produced a sensation de- 
pending upon the nature of the object, and there is conveyed 
to the mind a notion of the nature of the object. The sensation 
and the notion are not one and the same but two distinct 
things, capable of being contemplated separately. If the ob- 
ject, as is the usual case, be neither hot nor cold relatively to 
the temperature of the body, and do not penetrate the tissues 
nor derange the part in contact with it by any caustic property, 
the sensation will be what may be called indifferent, i.e., it 
will be neither painful nor pleasurable. Nevertheless, if the 
object be such as to be capable of producing any sensation at 
all, i.e., be not a mere gas, incapable of affecting the part, it 
will be distinct, and one can prolong it at will and fix the 



The Psychologic Process. 17 

attention upon it while partially or wholly excluding the notion 
it conveys to the mind. On the other hand, in such a case 
one may, and most naturally does, quite ignore the sensation, 
and may fix the attention more or less exclusively upon the 
notion produced by the object. If this latter course is pursued 
it is clear that the notion conveyed is due to the nature of the 
object, since it will differ with different objects. In other 
words it is this notion which affords the mind a knowledge of 
the nature of the object. The process by which this notion or 
knowledge is produced is called perception. 

The primary psychologic process, therefore, is the produc- 
tion of a sensation and nearly or quite simultaneously with this 
the production of a perception. 1 As the sensation resides 
wholly in the organism or subject experimenting, it may appro- 
priately be called subjective ; and as the perception relates 
exclusively to the object the nature of which it reveals, it may 
with equal propriety be called objective. This initial step in 
the psychologic process furnishes, therefore, the basis or pri- 
mary element of both the subjective and the objective branch 
of mind. The following out of the subsequent phenomena 
which succcessively flow from the repetition, multiplication, 
combination and coordination of sensations constitutes Sub-} 
jective Psychology ; while the similar following out of the 
phenomena which flow from the corresponding repetition, mul- 
tiplication, combination and coordination of perceptions con-i 
stitutes Objective Psychology. 

The finger-tip has been selected for illustration because it is 
known that this part of the human organism has from prolonged 
use been differentiated physiologically through the laws of de- 
velopment for affording, more delicately than any other part, 
a knowledge of the nature of the objects with which it is 
brought in contact. Its perceptive power has been specialized 
by an adjustment of the nerve-tips or papillae to this end. Such 
specialization is common in the animal kingdom, reaching much 

1 More properly but less commonly the phenomenon is called a percept and the 
act "A. perception. 



1 8 Subjective Factors. 

greater perfection, for example, in the tips of the vibrissae of the 
cat and of the antennae in insects. But the process might be 
traced by experimenting with any other part of the body not 
aponeurotic (e.g., hair or nails), only it would be seen that here 
the subjective part of the process would manifest itself rela- 
tively much stronger while the notion gained of the nature of 
the object would be correspondingly less definite. 

The sense of feeling was also chosen for the purpose of 
>f illustrating the psychologic process because it displays both 

parts of the process to better advantage than any of the other 
four senses. This is because all the other senses are are too 
much specialized either in one direction or the other for certain 
economic purposes. The nerve papillae of the tongue and palate 
which give the sense of taste are specialized to dissolve nutri- 

/tious substances and yield pleasure during their passage to the 
stomach ; also to reject nauseous ones by yielding pain. They 
. furnish no notion of any other qualities, and give no further idea 
r N/\// of an insoluble substance than would be obtained by placing it 
yY upon the back of the hand. This sense, when only soluble 
>A / substances are considered, may therefore be regarded as occupy- 
/ \ing the extreme subjective end of the scale. 

The sense of smell also occupies a position near what may 
be called the subjective pole. The olfactory nerve is specialized 
to detect odors, chiefly either pleasant or unpleasant, but from 
its location is withdrawn from contact with ordinary substances. 
If liquids, or solids in the comminuted form, are introduced 
into the antra, unless themselves odorous, they usually cause 
pain more or less distinctly from threatening to injure the 
delicate tissues of the nerve. Inert gases such as air are im- 
perceptible. What constitutes odorousness has long been a 
disputed question, and the ingenious theory has lately been 
proposed that only volatile and chemically unstable substances 
are odorous, 1 i.e., that only gases are capable of affecting the 

1 Prof. F. W. Clarke advanced this theory in a still unpublished paper read before 
the Philosophical Society of Washington on Nov. 7, 1885. See Bulletin Phil. Soc., 
Vol. VIII, p. 27. 



The Psychologic Process. 19 

olfactory nerve in the manner to produce the sensation of an 
odor. 

The next sense in the order of increasing objectivity with 
correspondingly decreasing subjectivity is that of hearing, but 
the step is a long one, and it is obvious that the sensation 
produced by sound, unless the vibrations are so violent as 
to produce pain or manifest disturbance of the apparatus, 
is practically nil. On the other hand a very definite idea of 
the nature of the object emitting the sound is produced ; not, 
indeed, of its form or texture, but of its sound-producing 
properties. By virtue of this objective capability of the sense 
of hearing it becomes one of the great avenues of conveying 
knowledge to the mind. 

Finally, at the extreme objective, pole we find the sense of 
sight. Unless the light be so brilliant as mechanically to injure 
the optic nerve it is impossible to detect any sensation in the 
act of seeing. But of all the senses this is the one that 
furnishes the most complete notion of the object. 

With regard to the material vehicle of the five senses we may 
say that the gustatory sense requires a liquid, the olfactory 
sense (should Prof. Clarke's theory be confirmed) a gaseous, 
the tactual sense a solid, the auditory sense usually a gaseous 
(the atmosphere 1 ), and the visual sense an ethereal (the uni- 
versal ether) medium. 

The order in passing from the subjective to the objective 
pole is that just given, viz., I, taste ; 2, smell ; 3, touch ; 4, 
hearing ; 5, sight. 

1 Solids and liquids are also, of course, conductors of sound in varying degrees, 
but it is the air that directly affects the organ of hearing. 



' 



CHAPTER IV. 

SUBJECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY. 

The phenomena of feeling constitute the true basis of all that part of 
philosophy which at all involves the interest of man. They are, in short, 
the foundation-stones of the social science. What function is to biology, 
feeling is to sociology. Dynamic Sociology, II, 123. 

Sensation is the consciousness of the change which the contact of the 
object effects in the state of the molecules at the point of contact. This 
bears no direcj, proportion to the amount of disturbance produced, but 
depends far more upon the degree of sensitiveness of the part affected. 
This sensitiveness is due to the specialization of the tissues for this express 
purpose, which results from the operation of natural selection or adaptation. 
The physiological meaning of these degrees of sensitiveness in different 
tissues is, that the nerve-fibers are so arranged at points where it is advan- 
tageous to the organism to have them so, that slight disturbances at their 
termini convey comparatively powerful discharges to the interior centers, 
and the greater the disproportion between the amount of disturbance and 
the amount of the discharge the more sensitive the part is said to be. 
Dynamic Sociology, I, 381-382. 

The peculiarity of Feeling, therefore, is that there is nothing but what is 
subjectively subjective ; there is no object different from self, no objectifi- 
cation of any mode of self. SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON: Metaphysics, 
II, p. 432, Lecture 42. 

External Objects impressed upon the Senses occasion, first in the Nerves, 
on which they are impressed, and then in the Brain, Vibrations of the 
small, and as one may say, infinitesimal, medullary Particles. DAVID 
HARTLEY : Observations on Man, Prop. IV. 

These vibrations are motions backwards and forwards of the small 
particles ; of the same kind with the oscillations of pendulums, and the 
tremblings of the particles of sounding bodies. They must be conceived 
to be exceedingly short and small, so as not to have the least efficacy to 
disturb or move the whole bodies of the nerves or brain. DAVID HART- 
LEY : Ibid., (Discussion of Prop. IV). 



Subjective Psychology. 

The first tendency in every consciousness is pure pain-pleasure, complete 
subjectivity which, however, in higher consciousness is so quickly lost 
through practically consentaneous differentiation that all traces of it seem 
wholly extinguished. Pure subjectivity must be pronounced the most 
evanescent of all characters in developed minds and yet the most constant. 
It is the inevitable precedent in every sensation and in every perception. 
We always experience pleasure or pain(befor)the pleasurable or painful. ^ 1 
HIRAM M. STANLEY : Philosophical Review, July, 1892 (Vol. I, p. 439). 

Subjective psychology proper deals exclusively with sensa- 
tions and their various combinations. It takes no account of 
intellectual processes. The simplest sensations are those 

titioned at the beginning of the last chapter, viz., those L 
ch are neither painful nor pleasurable, but indifferent. 
:se are more abundant than might be at first supposed, 
their importance will be considered in the next chapter, 
jective psychology has very little to do with them. Its 
chief object is to explain the nature and importance of the 
other two classes of sensations painful and pleasurable 
which may be grouped together in contrast with indifferent 
ones and called intensive. Reasons will be given later for 
regarding intensive sensations as primary and indifferent 
sensations as secondary. 

The only senses that afford intensive sensations directly are 
taste, smell, and touch. Objects brought into contact with 
the nerves of any of these senses may produce directly either 
painful or pleasurable effects. In case of sounds so violent as 
to injure the ear, or light so brilliant as to affect the eye 
unfavorably, it is no longer hearing or sight but feeling that is 
involved. Feeling is preeminently the pain-sense, 1 few objects 
being capable of producing pleasing effects by direct contact, 
though some such there are, as when soft fur is touched or 

1 The above was written in January, 1892, and I was first made acquainted 
with the fact that Goldscheider had "positively demonstrated isolated specific 
pain nerves " on reading the suggestive articles of Dr. Herbert Nichols in the 
Philosophical Review for July and September. See that review, Vol. I, pp. 406- 

407. 



"**- 4 - 



22 Subjective Factors. 



warm water is felt under certain conditions of the system. 
Taste and smell, on the contrary, are more especially pleasure- 
senses, although there are plenty of bitter, sour, and nauseous 
objects and offensive odors. 

The pains and pleasures yielded by sounds and colors are 
not direct and original but indirect and derivative. It is true 
that no sensation is possible that is not conveyed to the brain 
by the proper nerves, but this is only to say that in order for 
a sensation to exist the organism must be conscious of it. 
The pain caused by burning the hand, however, is definitely 
located in the injured part. The pleasure afforded by savory 
food or fragrant flowers is felt in the organs of taste and smell 
themselves. But the pleasing effect of melody is not felt in 
the ear, it is experienced, as is commonly said, by the mind. 
Much less is the enjoyment of a landscape a sensation located 
in the eye. It is a diffused state of the psychic organism, and 
is wrongly called intellectual by some. Both these classes of 
feelings are properly called emotional. 

This leads to the most important branch of subjective psy- 
chology, viz., the emotions. Emotions may be called secondary 
.sensations, i. e., sensations that are not produced directly by 
the object through contact of its appropriate medium with the 
nerve, but are reflected from the brain along special nerve 
fibers to certain specialized emotional ganglia within the 
organism. They constitute in fact a distinct sense, the oft- 
mentioned sixth sense, if any one prefers so to designate it. 
Not, however, the so-called "moral sense" of certain ethical 
writers, by which we are said to be able to distinguish instinc- 
tively right from wrong (which is not a sense in the physiolog- 
ical acceptation of the word), but a true physiological sense, 
consisting, like the other five, of nerves specialized to afford a 
particular class of sensations. If, however, we are to arrange 
the senses in the ascending order of their objectivity and 
number them accordingly, the emotional sense would stand 
first instead of last, since it is as exclusively subjective as the 



Subjective Psychology. 23; 

sense of sight is exclusively objective. An emotion yields na 
perception. It was pointed out that the senses of taste and 
smell are chiefly subjective, that their principal function is to 
cause pleasurable (or painful) sensations. But not only do 
these senses give rise to a great number of such sensations 
differing as the nature of the object differs, but they really 
acquaint the mind with as many different qualities residing in 
the objects. That is to say, they yield perceptions of the 
gustatory and olfactory qualities of objects capable of affecting 
them, but of no other qualities. But the emotional sense 
furnishes the mind with no knowledge whatever of the object 
producing the emotion. It furnishes sensation only, although 
the nature of the sensations differ widely according to the 
objects, and are infinitely multiplied. 

It appears then that the nervous apparatus of a developed 
organism yields two great classes of sensations which may be 
roughly classed as external and internal. I say roughly, be- 
cause this distinction is not absolute. The nerves of taste, 
smell, hearing, and sight are internal, but not so much so that 
the medium through which they are reached does not actually 
penetrate to them from without and act directly upon them as 
literally as a blow with a whip acts upon the external nerves of 
the part of the body that it strikes. In emotions, on the con- 
trary, there is no medium except the nerve currents themselves. 
The specialized emotional ganglia are located in many parts of 
the body but not in all parts. Large numbers of them are con- 
nected with the cerebro-spinal system, but the great emotional 
centers are located in the sympathetic system. It is unneces- 
sary to enter here into a detailed account of the intricate 
relations subsisting between the cerebro-spinal and sympathetic 
systems, relations which are not as yet all fully understood, and 
about which there is still considerable controversy. The 
general facts have long been established and these are sufficient 
for the present purpose. The sympathetic system is essentially 
internal ; its operations are chiefly or wholly unconscious and 



24 Subjective Factors. 

cannot be controlled at will, although they are profoundly 
affected by mental states, however these may have been brought 
about ; it controls the involuntary operations of the internal 
organs, such as circulation, digestion, assimilation, and glandu- 
lar secretion ; and, finally, it is the seat of the principal 
emotions. Here a distinction must be drawn between sensa- 
tion and emotion. In a popular sense an emotion is a sensation, 
but not in the same sense in which the term is applied to ex- 
ternal impressions. It was remarked above that feeling is 
primarily a pain-sense. All the nerves of feeling, so far as 
known, belong to the cerebro-spinal system, and all organs 
which are exposed to injury receive fibers from that system 
whether they receive any from the sympathetic system or not. 
Those organs, such as the liver, kidneys, ovaries, etc., which 
are supplied with fibers from the sympathetic only are so far 
internal as not to require the protection of a sensory apparatus. 
The emotional centers, therefore, while they are not special- 
ized for experiencing the sensation of pain from the contact of 
foreign substances, and therefore do not in this meaning belong 
to the sense of feeling, are nevertheless capable of affording the 
most intense feelings both of pain and pleasure. We may 
leave unsettled the question whether the emotions are confined 
exclusively to the sympathetic system or whether the cerebro- 
spinal system may contribute somewhat to their production, the 
fact remains that there exists a diffused, but powerful emotional 
sense distinct from all the other senses, but capable of yielding 
the deepest and most important of all the feelings. 



CHAPTER V. 

OBJECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY. 

Perception is the quality of that state of consciousness of the tissue 
affected, which arises from the character of the object ; it is the result of 
differences of sensations produced by differences of objects ; or, still more 
clearly, of different sensations caused by different objects. . . . Perception 
of the lowest form consists in the impression thus made by the object upon 
the afferent nerve and the ganglion to which it immediately leads. ... It 
is simply the recognition by the sensitive nerve-matter affected that it has 
been thus affected, the manner in which it is affected denoting the prop- 
erties of the object. This is the root of the idea of knowledge. In thus 
recognizing the properties of an object, the nervous system, however 
simple, in so far knows the object. The term cognition is preferable to 
recognition, since it does not presuppose an antecedent acquaintance with 
the same properties. Dynamic Sociology, I, 382-383. 

Die Vernunft ist weiblicher Natur : sie kann nur geben, nachdem sie 
empfan^cn hat. SCHOPENHAUER : Welt als Wille ^md Vorstellung, I, 59. 

The white medullary Substance of the Brain is also the immediate In- 
strument, by which Ideas are presented to the Mind : or, in other words, 
whatever Changes are made in this Substance, corresponding Changes are 
made in our Ideas ; and vice versa. DAVID HARTLEY : Observations on 
Man, Prop. II. 

Objective psychology in its properly limited sense deals ex- 
clusively with perceptions and their elaboration by the brain. 
The contact of an object or medium with the nerve of sense is 
called an impression ; the effect produced upon the nerve is re- 
ferred to the brain and becomes a sensation, which, for reasons 
that will hereafter be given, appears to reside at the im- 
mediate point impressed. If not so strong as to absorb con- 
sciousness in the sensation itself a perception results, affording 
a notion of the nature of the object which caused the sensation. 
If pain is produced no such notion is gained. If a pleasure- 



26 



Subjective Factors. 






nerve is affected the notion is limited to the few qualities 
residing in objects capable of appealing to such senses, e.g., 
sweet, sour, bitter, fragrant, etc. The notions of melody, 
harmony, and discord, as also of colors, are allied to these last, 
but differ in not being accompanied by proper sensations. 
They are perceptions of the lowest class. Uniformly, the less 
distinct the sensation the more clear the perception. The 
senses of hearing and sight, therefore, are devoted exclusively" 
to furnishing perceptions. 

Perception, like sensation, though residing in the brain ap- 
pears to be located at the receptive end of the nerves of sense. 
Perceptions are registered in the brain by a physiological pro- 
cess not wholly understood, but about which much is known. 
This registration is permanent, i.e., it remains during a longer 
or shorter period depending upon many conditions. Among 
these conditions are the importance of the perception, the 
quality of the brain, the age of the subject, etc. 

The structure and mechanism of the brain are such that a 
plurality of registered perceptions gives rise to a process of 
combination, comparison, and coordination. Every individual 
from birth to death is incessantly receiving impressions through 
the appropriate senses which are duly recorded and constitute 
his stock of raw material for thought. The process of 
elaborating this raw material is distinguished from all other 
psychic operations as intellectual. The cerebral apparatus by 
wnich it is accomplished is the organ of the intellect. 

The first step in the purely intellectual process is the group- 
ing together of the several perceptions furnished by any object 
and the formation therefrom of a conception}- of it. This con- 

1 Concept would be the proper term and is properly so used, but it has also 
acquired a much larger meaning, as datum, axiom, or fundamental idea. Concep- 
tion in psychology should be confined to the act of conceiving by the mind. Its 
use in this sense may have been derived from the physical fact of conception 
which, before much was known about physiology was supposed by many to be 
itself a mental process. Weismann (Essays, Vol. II. London, 1892, pp. 106-107) 
remarks apropos to this belief : " Some writers regard inheritance by means of 



Objective Psychology. 27 

ception is then used as a psychological unit of comparison with 
other conceptions. Where two such conceptions are compared 
the mind declares whether they are similar or dissimilar, and 
such declaration is called in logic a judgment, while the 
formula by which it is expressed is called a proposition. If such 
judgment be not erroneous it constitutes a trutJi, which Mr. 
George Henry Lewes has acutely denned as "the recognition 
of identity." Judgments thus formed in great numbers in the 
mind relative to all the multitudinous phenomena of experience 
become in turn distinct psychological units of a higher order to 
be themselves compared and co-ordinated. 

A still more complex process consists in arranging like with 
like to form a group and then selecting from that group those 
properties which all have in common and no others, giving rise 
to an idea in the Platonic sense ; and then proceeding with the 
classification of unlike ideas. But the mind does not stop here. 
It goes on and makes groups of these groups, ever widening 
the circle, the larger groups having less and less properties in 
common, and the smaller groups more and more. This process 
is termed generalization and may be carried up until all things 
whatsoever shall be embraced in the ultimate generalization. 
Before the biological sciences were founded philosophers from 
Plato down labored to find illustrations of this process. Now 
they are abundant and familiar even to school children, and 
the study of classification in plants and animals, entirely aside 
from the knowledge of nature which it affords, is of more value 
as a lesson in logic than all the rules and formulas of that 
science if committed to memory. One may struggle for four 

fertilization as a purely immaterial occurrence: thus Harvey, in his remarkable 
and minutely thought-out theory of heredity, imagined conception as a mental 
process, the folds of the mucous membrane lining the uterus corresponding to the 
convolutions of the brain, and giving rise to the foetus under the influence of the 
semen; just as the brain, under the influence of external impressions, gives rise to 
thoughts. The term ' conception,' when figuratively applied to mental processes, 
a term which has been obviously derived from conception on the part of 
a woman, is here reversed, and used to explain the very process from which 
it is itself derived." 



28 Subjective Factors. 

years to comprehend the Platonic idea without succeeding, but 
the moment a distinct conception is gained of what is meant 
by a genus or an order in natural history the Platonic idea is 
mastered. 

Reason is more especially the faculty by which the mind 
reaches conclusions. It does this from a use of all the materials 
in its possession, but chiefly by the aid of conceptions, judg- 
ments, and other of the higher psychological units. The two 
leading methods are deduction and induction, both of which 
are too familiar to require description. Both are essentially 
classificatory, the former valuable in verifying hypotheses or 
suspected relationships among ideas, the latter often leading to 
the unexpected discovery of new truth. 

To all these intellectual operations text-book writers append 
treatises on memory and imagination. But memory is the 
general condition to the whole process and consists in the fact 
that not only perceptions but conceptions, judgments, and 
ideas are more or less permanently registered and may be 
called up as occasion requires. The phenomena of the associ- 
ation of ideas also rests upon this fact. Imagination cannot 
transcend experience. Its materials must all be stored up for 
use. It can only form new or strange combinations of them, 
can multiply them into exaggerations or combine them in un- 
natural ways. The same is true of the creative faculty in art, 
usually treated as a form of the imagination. But here the 
process consists essentially in a selection of the best from all the 
materials at hand. Everything in the real world is imperfect 
but there exist ideals, and the true artist selects from these 
and realizes to the extent of his power his idea of a perfect 
combination. 

Objective psychology, as already remarked, is about the only 
department of the mind that the older philosophers deemed 
worthy of study, and the process above sketched constituted 
the greater part of the field covered by them. But there is 
another department, hitherto almost wholly ignored, yet the 



Objective Psychology. 29 

one which is historically the primary intellectual process, and 
is at the same time practically the most important of all in- 
tellectual processes. To distinguish it from all the other forms ] /r f ' 
of reasoning I propose to call this process intuition. The 
power of carrying on this kind of mental activity may be called 
the intuitive faculty. The probable explanation of the neglect 
of this faculty by writers on the mind is its identity with what 
we call sagacity or cunning, which, whether displayed by 
animals or men, is considered to be a low element. That the 
principle of deception lies at the foundation of it I have 
formerly shown, and shall more fully establish in Chap. XXIV, jpi 'r 
which makes it of the greatest importance to ethical and 
social science, while this reputed sin is many times atoned 
for by its achievements in the domain of non-sentient things in 
constituting the sole condition to the origin and progress of 
material civilization. But the proper treatment of this impor- 
tant part of objective psychology cannot be undertaken until 
the nature of the conative powers, so constantly associated 
with it, shall have been set forth, and it will be best to post- 
pone the whole subject until the second part of the work is 
reached, where it will constitute the essential basis of the 
entire discussion. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE CONATIVE FACULTY. 

The simpler truths of physics, chemistry, etc., have been found to present 
difficulties, puzzles, and paradoxes, at every step in their investigation. It 
is therefore not surprising that the far more subtile phenomena of mind 
should present enigmas and paradoxes even more remarkable, and thus 
baffle the common intellect and that of the philosopher as well. That the 
phantom of the will is such a paradox there is no doubt. Already far more 
deeply cherished beliefs in various departments have been remanded by 
science to the limbo of paradoxical myths, and I see no reason for clinging 
with such pertinacity to the will after it is shown to be only a will-o'- 
the wisp. Dynamic Sociology, I, 398. 

Affectus coerceri nee tolli potest, nisi per affectum contrarium et fortiorem 
affectu coercendo. SPINOZA : Ethica, Pars IV, Propositio VII. 

Although the conative faculty properly belongs to subjective 
psychology it would have been inconvenient to treat it before 
the general principles of objective psychology were set forth. 
This is in consequence of the important part which the ideo- 
motor apparatus performs in producing voluntary action. Of 
this I shall presently speak. 

We have seen that impressions which are not strong enough 
to produce any but what have been called indifferent sensa- 
tions are conveyed to the brain in the form of perceptions and 
constitute the raw material for thought. That is to say, they 
are reflected to the cortical layers and other specialized fibers 
and plexuses devoted to the process of ideation as described in 
the last chapter. But impressions which are strong enough 
to produce what were called intensive sensations, after being 
carried to the brain along the afferent nerves are reflected back 
along a different set of nerves, designated as efferent nerves, 
to the muscles connected with the organ impressed. These 
nerves possess an entirely different function, namely, that of 



The Conative Faculty. 31 

-causing the appropriate muscles to contract and the organ to 
move. Hence they are called motor nerves, and the entire 
nervous system has this motor apparatus everywhere accom- 
panying the sensor apparatus. The great distinguishing char- 
acteristic of an animal organism is its ability to move to 
move itself bodily (except in the few cases of the lower forms 
that are fixed to a support), or at least to move its parts. This 
movement is accomplished entirely by means of the motor 
nerves communicating with the appropriate muscles. 

It will be observed that the motor apparatus is only stimu- 
lated to act by intensive sensations, that is, by such as cause 
pleasure or pain, be this ever so slight, a fact which is of 
prime importance in considering the conative powers. But 
the reason for it is clear. The movements caused by such 
sensations are not irregular and aimless but have a definite 
character and purpose. They always take place in the direc- 
tion aivay from a pain-producing object and towards a pleasure- 
producing object. The simplest animal movement known is 
that which is called reflex action, by which the afferent nerve 
carries the impression direct to the brain or principal gang- 
lionic center and the motor impulse is directly reflected back 
to the organ impressed, resulting in its movement. So simple 
is this that it may be made to take place in a dead frog's leg, 
provided the nerves are still intact. 

From this simple origin the phenomena may be followed 
through a great variety and complexity of forms until it 
becomes impossible to analyze them and distinguish their 
.several elements. The sensori-motor apparatus permeates the 
organism and extends to all the organs that are at all exposed. 
A few of the internal organs, as previously stated, are destitute 
of sensori-motor nerves and provided only with sympathetic 
ones, and one of the most convincing proofs of the purpose of 
this arrangement is that while the ovaries belong to this latter 
class the corresponding but exposed testes are provided with 
sensori-motor nerves from the cerebro-spinal system. 




32 Subjective Factors.- 

The sympathetic system also has motor attachments, as is 
evidenced by its control of the peristaltic muscular movements 
of the intestines, the valves of the arteries, the systole and 
diastole of the heart and circulatory vessels, the action of 
secretory glands, etc., but all this is carried on unconsciously, 
or more properly speaking, is presided over by the great 
subordinate ganglionic centers and is not referred to the brain 
or general organ of consciousness. If therefore it appears to 
form an exception to the general law that movement can only 
take place in obedience to intensive sensations, this is based 
on the assumption that those ganglionic centers are incapable 
of experiencing sensations, an assumption by no means war- 
ranted by physiology. The nervous system must be regarded 
as compound, i. e., as composed of many individuals, the 
subordinate ganglionic centers, each endowed with a conscious- 
ness_of its own, and all integrated into a general system having 
the brain as the supreme center of consciousness. This 
supreme consciousness is the ego of the philosophers, and 
nothing that is not referred to it is perceived by the integrated 
organism or ego. Physiological economy requires that most of 
the internal vital processes shall be performed without expense 
to the general consciousness ; the sensations calling forth these 
ceaseless actions are extremely slight, and only when derange- 
^A ments occur too great to be repaired by the lower centers are 
y these sensations referred to the higher one and brought within 
the range of consciousness proper. But the proposition must 
be rigidly adhered to that there can be no motion without 
sensation, and these unconscious sensations, if the expression 
were permissible, must be regarded as the sensations of 
individual beings distinct from the ego, which is no more 
aware of them than it is of those of any other organism not 
itself. 

It is to be remarked, however, that there seems to exist a 
faint but incessant current connecting these lower centers with 
the supreme center and producing a constant recognition of 



The Conative Faculty. 33 

the activity of all the vital functions ; for it can be nothing 
else than this that constitutes the enjoyment of health. It is 
the pleasure of normal activity throughout all the organs of 
the body, steadily reported by the subordinate centers to the 
supreme center. Conversely in low states of health the pain 
of imperfect performance of function is similarly reported, 
producing all the grades of pathologic states to complete 
prostration and death. 

Thus far we have considered only those actions which result 
from the sensori-motor apparatus. But in highly developed 
organisms there iS^another apparatus, more complicated in its 
nature, called the uk&gnotor apparatus. This exists in all 
organisms in which there is a true brain having registered upon 
it any of the impressions described in the last chapter percep- 
tions, conceptions, judgments, ideas, generalizations, thoughts. 
The process of ideation is carried on in the cortical layers in 
communication with each other by means of longitudinal and 
transverse fibers, with \hzfornix and corpus callosum, and with 
the sensorium at the tJialami optici2C&& corpora striata. These 
organs are provided with efferent nerves connecting them with 
the muscular system along which there occurs a motor dis- 
charge producing muscular activities which are the legitimate 
ends for which Jdcffsare fanned. The resultant actions are 
those which are commonly understood as rational actions. All 
others are the simple animal impulses with which the reason 
has nothing to do. Such actions come as clearly within the 
generic definition of being the result of intensive senationsand 
tending away from pain-producing and towards pleasure-pro- 
ducing causes, as do the sensori-motor actions or movements. 
They differ only in their intellectual origin and consequent 
higher character. Naturally they are less vivid and less strong, 
but they are also more persistent and enduring. They result 
from what is called conviction, and where judgments and con- 
clusions are objectively true they are successful in their results. 
But if such judgments and conclusions involve error they must 




34 Subjective Factors. 

in so far fail, and history and experience have proved that so 
complicated is the process of ideation that error is nearly or 
quite as common as truth, so that ideo-motor actions of the 
more important kinds are often even less reliable than mere 
animal impulses. This is chiefly due to insufficient data sup- 
plied to the mind, and constitutes the great argument for the 
inculcation of the maximum amount of the most important 
knowledge which alone can render ideas trustworthy and ideo- 
motor actions safe. 

It will be observed that in treating the conative faculty I 
have not made use of the term will. This is because this term, 
like many others in our language, has only a popular and not a 
technical or scientific meaning. Psychology is the physics of 
the mind, and its phenomena are as uniform and its laws as 
exact as are those of the physics of the inorganic world. If 
this were not so it would not be a science, and there would be 
no use in attempting to treat it at all. The physical law of 
mind is that motor impulses follow sense impressions as effect 
follows cause. As in mechanical physics, so in mental physics, 
the effect is proportioned to the cause and acts in the direction 
of the cause. In the microcosm as in the macrocosm there are 
multiplied causes always operating, and these, in the nature of 
things, are constantly influencing one another in every con- 
ceivable way, sometimes working together to strengthen the 
effects, more commonly conflicting either directly or obliquely 
and variously modify ing them. In mind as in matter the actual 
effect is always the exact resultant of these causes, and if equal 
and opposite, equilibrium is the consequence, while if oblique, 
or varied in quantity and direction, some form of constrained 
motion results. The actual movement observed is merely an 
index to the causes producing it, and notifies the observer as to 
what were the prevailing impulses. 

( What is popularly termed the will is merely the expression 
c of the psychological fact that this, that, or the other impulse 
factually did prevail because stronger than all others. If we 



The Conative Faculty. .35 

seek for any other rational basis for the will we never find it. 
To suppose with some that the rational motives constitute the 
will and may be made to dominate the physical impulses is un- 
sound, since not only do they often fail to do so in the best 
minds, but, as above remarked, if they did, the result would 
often be less safe than it is in the actual case. To the claim 
that the will consists in causing good motives to prevail over 
bad ones the answer is that from the nature of the mental 
mechanism this must always be the case, since the only move- 
ments possible are those which seek the good or shun the bad. 
This of course is from the standpoint of the organism, i.e., 
egoistic ; but if it be maintained that by the good is only 
meant the altruistic, then this altruistic motive must also be the 
prevailing egoistic one, otherwise we have an effect without a 
cause, and psychology ceases to be a science. 



CHAPTER VII. 

ORIGIN AND FUNCTION OF PLEASURE AND PAIN. 

The normal operations of the organism must be maintained; life must be 
preserved; the species must be perpetuated. Natural selection has therefore 
made those acts which secure these ends pleasurable, and those that threaten 
to defeat them painful. Any species in which these sensations are not 
sufficiently lively to secure the performance of the acts necessary to main- 
tain and perpetuate its life, and to defend it from external dangers, must 
rapidly become extinct, and only those species have survived in which the 
sensations were sufficiently developed for these purposes. Dynamic Soci- 
ology, I, 388-389. 

The objects which nature must be regarded as aiming to accomplish by 
the introduction of pleasure and pain are the preservation, perpetuation, and 
improvement of sentient organisms. Pleasure and pain are merely the means 
to these several ends, al! of which are more or less remote in appearance 
from the means employed. . . . There is no necessary connection between 
a given pleasurable or painful sensation, and the result it accomplishes in 
preserving, perpetuating, or perfecting the organism experiencing it. This 
result is brought about through a kind of pre-established harmony, not indeed 
of a supernatural kind, but consisting, on the contrary, of a purely mechan- 
ical adaptation of the means to the end, which are connected by the highest 
causal necessity, yet in such a manner that the creature obeying the mandate 
of the former does so without the least necessary conception or even knowl- 
edge of the latter. Dynamic Sociology, II, 120-121. 

Pains are the correlatives of actions injurious to the organism, while pleas- 
ures are the correlatives of actions conducive to its welfare. . . . It is an 
T inevitable deduction from the hypothesis of Evolution, that races of sentient 
^creatures could have come into existence under no other conditions. 
HERBERT SPENCER : Principles of Psychology, I, p. 279. Those races 
of beings only can have surviyed in which, on the average, agreeable or 
desired feelings went along with activities conducive to the maintenance 
of life, while disagreeable and habitually-avoided feelings went along with 
activities directly or indirectly destructive of life ; and there must ever have 
been, other things equal, the most numerous and long-continued survivals 
among races in which these adjustments of feelings to actions were the 
best, tending ever to bring about perfect adjustment. HERBERT SPENCER: 
Ibid., I, p. 280. 



Origin and Function of Pleasure and Pain. 37 

Je dois cependant signaler ici une heureuse remarque de M. de Blain- 
ville sur le siege de Timpression : outre 1'affection directe de 1'organe prin- 
cipal de la satisfaction du besoin considere, il y a toujours une affection 
sympathique a 1'orifice du canal qui doit introduire 1'agent destine' a cette 
satisfaction, soit qu'il s'agisse de Tincretion d'aliments solides, liquides, ou 
gazeux: il en est de meme, en sens inverse, pour les divers besoins d'ex- 
cretion, toujours ressentis sympathiquement a 1'extremite' du canal excre'teur. 
AUGUSTS COMTE: Philosophic Positive, III, 517. 

Mind, like all other vital function, must originate in some very simple and 
elementary form as demanded at some critical moment for the preservation 
of the organism. It is tolerably obvious that this could not be any objective 
consciousness, any cognitive act, like pure sensation, for this has no immediate 
value for life. It was not as awareness of object or in any discriminating 
activity that mind originated, for mere apprehension would not serve the 
being more than the property of reflection the mirror. The demand of the 
organism is for that which will accomplish immediate movement to the 
place of safety. HIRAM M. STANLEY: Philosophical Review, July, 1892 
(vol. I, p. 433). 

Wenn wir den Willen da, wo ihn Niemand leugnet, also in den erkennen- 
den Wesen, betrachten, so finden wir iiberall, als seine Grundbestrebung, 
die Selbsterhaltung eines jeden Wesens: omnis natura vult esse conser- 
vatrix siii. Alle Aeusserungen dieser Grundbestrebung aber lassen sich 
stets zuriickfiihren auf ein Suchen, oder Verfolgen, und ein Meiden, oder 
Fliehen, je nach dem Anlass. SCHOPENHAUER: Welt als Wille, II, 338. 

din the natural world everything has a meaning. The mission) 
jcience is to ascertain that meaning. fyvlthout science and 
before science all is mystery. The motto of science is nil ad- 
mirari. Among the mysteries about which philosophers have 
from time immemorial and with great ingenuity and enormous 
labor busied themselves, but for which the new science of 
biology has found an explanation wholly different from any 
proposed, much more simple, perfectly rational, and in harmony 
with all the facts, is that of the origin of pain, or in more 
dignified but less accurate phrase, the origin of evil. At the 
same time that it explained pain, however, it also explained 
pleasure, which, though more complicated and remarkable, had, 
nevertheless, never been regarded as a mystery, but as some- 



Subjective Factors. 




thing that ought to exist in the nature of things. The fact is 
} that neither pain nor pleasure exists essentially or in the nature 
things. Neither is necessary, and the universe is easily 
conceived as destitute of both. The only sense in which they 
can be regarded as necessary is that in which whatever is, is 
necessary. In any other sense they are accidental. 

To illustrate what I mean by saying that pleasure and pain 
are not inherently necessary, the recent announcement, one 
might almost say demonstration, of Prof. August Weismann, 
that death is not necessary is precisely in point. He has 
shown that the duration of life in 'different kinds of animals 
is not fixed in any such way as is popularly supposed, but has 
been brought about in each case by the cooperation of certain 
factors, especially the rate at which the species can multiply 
and the danger to life to which it is subjected in its normal 
habitat. These two causes working together determine the 
rate of reproduction, and the duration of life is adjusted to this 
so as to secure the requisite number of offspring per pair to 
insure the certain continuance of the species. But for these 
agencies the life of man, for example, might have been twice. 
> or ten times as long as it is, or might have been cut down to a 
score of years or less. Indeed there would be no necessary 
^limit, and a gnat might live a century. Not only so, but from 
this truth as a basis Weismann works out with wonderful skill 
his doctrine of the continuity of the germ-plasm, and actually 
maintains that the least of all living things, the very germs 
of life, are in very truth "immortal," and that in the latest 
product of organic nature there exist f elements ] that have 
never ceased to live since life was introduces^ into the 
world ! 

It is in .exactly this sense that pleasure and pain are not 
necessary, but are products of certain conditioning phenomena 
belonging to the infinite chain of cause and effect which 
constitutes the actual universe. As a general proposition 
embodying this truth it may be stated that pleasure and pain 



I 



\ 

Origin and Function of Pleas2tre and Pain. 39 



are thc^onditions to tJic existence of plastic organisms. Organ- 
isms that are not plastic, such as most plants, have their 
existence secured by other conditions the solid stem or 
trunk, deeply imbedded and protected roots, multiplied appen- 
dicular organs, etc. But plastic organisms, such as most 
animals, require different conditions of existence, and the one 
with which we find them provided is a sensitive organization, 
that is, they are sentient. 

Except by a degree of refinement greater than is necessary 
to our present purpose the origin of life is a different problem 
from the origin of mind, and as a fact in cosmic history probably 
antedated it by eons of time. Mind dates from the dawn of 
the sentient property. This property belongs to plastic motile 
beings, and as above stated, is the condition to the development 
of such beings. However faint it may be conceived to be in 
the most lowly of them they must all be assumed to be capable 
of feeling. And for the purpose for which feeling was created 
it must be supposed to consist of pleasure and pain. Indifferent 
feeling, such as was described as the basis of objective psy- 
chology, could have been of no possible use in insuring the life 
of inchoate plastic organisms. Whether we conceive them as 
possessing incipient nervous systems or merely channels in 
apparently unorganized protoplasmic masses, the sensations 
which led them to obtain nourishment and escape danger must 
have belonged to the intensive class. In the higher metazoans 
and all the developed beings that people the earth this property 
is distinct and manifest, and in the highest, where alone we are 
in the habit of observing it, it does not differ in any appreciable 
respect from what we experience in ourselves. 

We have seen that the cerebro-spinal system of the higher 
animals and man supplies sensori-motor nerves to all exposed 
organs, and we know that those not thus provided are incapable 
of feeling. The proof is adequate that it is the purpose of 
these nerves to warn the system of danger to such organs. It 
is a legitimate inference from abundant induction that the 





4O Subjective Factors. 

purpose and function of pain is protection from injury. From 
the biological standpoint it has no other object, and but for the 
necessity of such protection the whole animal world might far 
better have been incapable of pain. Nor is there any doubt 
that in the absence of this necessity such a quality as sensitive- 
ness to pain would not and could not have been developed. 
Remove this quality and sentient life would quickly disappear. 
The hostile environment would close in upon it and ruthlessly 
crush it. But pain in and of itself is evil the only evil. 
Yet viewed in the dry light of science it is good if there is any 
good, for it is the sole guaranty of life itself. This then is the 
origin of evil and forever closes the great debate, while at the 
same time it furnishes the ultimate answer to pessimism, asceti- 
"cism, orientalism, and all the 'isms that bewail the sufferings of 
.the world. 

If we look at the other side of the case we find a parallel 
series of facts. Plastic organisms exist by virtue of what physi- 
ologists call metabolism. Their substance must be constantly 
renewed by assimilation of the materials of which they are 
composed. Not to speak of growth, they are perpetually con- 
suming it by the vital processes of existence. This consump- 
tion of tissue or normal waste of organic substance must be 
incessantly supplied from without. It could never be done 
without an adequate stimulus or motive for doing it. The re- 
plenishing of wasted tissues is nutrition, and to insure nutrition 
some inducement must be provided to perform the acts that will 
accomplish it. No other motive can be conceived than that of 
agreeable sensation. To this end every organism is provided 
with a nervous apparatus adapted to render the nutritive act 
pleasurable. In the lower forms it is some degree of agreeable- 
ness in the contact of the absorbent tissues with the nutritive 
substance. In the higher it becomes taste, to which the sense 
of smell is directly ancillary. Nor is this sufficient. To it 
is added the pain or "pangs" of hunger only appeasable by 
renewal of the supply. And if the term nutrition is taken in 



Origin and Function of Pleasure and Pain. 41 

its broad sense of supplying all the elements that make up the 
organic body, since the greater part of all organisms consists 
of water, thirst must be added with its intolerable effects driving 
the creature to the source from which it may be slaked. These 
however may be transferred to the side of pleasurable sensations 
by considering the intense satisfaction that attends these acts 
of nutrition. 

Finally, in most of the higher organisms in which this 
supreme end is not otherwise attained, the procreative pleasure 
has been added to prevent such races of beings from perishing 
for lack of renewal. 1 The fact that this is absent from so 
many living creatures makes it easy to conceive of its being 
absent from all, and furnishes an excellent example in illustraA 
tion of the accidental character of sentiency in general, andi 
of what is meant by saying that pleasure and pain are \\Q\J 
necessary, but are simply conditions to the existence of beings 
organized as plastic organis 

We thus see that pleasure and pain have their^bogin not in 
the nature of (thing?) but in the nature of^rjiastic organisms^ f 
without which the latter could not have existed, and that their 
sole function is to conserve life, either by insuring escape from 
the dangers of a necessarily hostile environment, or by consti- 
tuting the motive to nutrition and reproduction. From this 
fundamental truth the corollary flows that the so-called evil 
of the world is a mere incident of the complicated conditions 
under which life exists. To what extent it is necessary and"! \ 
to what extent it is avoidable are questions that belong to the I v 
second part of this work. 

Several prevalent errors are also capable of removal by this 
view of the subject. It is commonly supposed that pleasure 
and pain are opposites. This is seen not to be the case. 

1 According to Weismann it is not renewal or reproduction that nature aims at 
in developing the sexual instinct, but -variation through the union of different 
hereditary tendencies. It amounts to nearly the same thing, however, since 
without such variation organic life would have been very low and simple even 
if it could have been maintained through purely asexual reproduction. 



42 Subjective Factors. 

They are practically independent of each other. There is no 
opposite to pleasure except it be the absence of pleasure, and 
there is no opposite to pain except it be relief from pain. 
They are physiological states arising from the condition of the 
appropriate nerves. These nerves are for the most part 
specialized l 'for producing either the one or the other, and 
the parts that yield pain-sensations are incapable of yielding 
pleasure-sensations, as instance the senses of feeling and of 
taste and smell. Feeling, as has been remarked, is essentially 
a pain-sense, and all the cerebro-spinal plexuses attending 
exposed parts of the body are susceptible to pains only. And 
although flavors or odors may be agreeable or disagreeable this 
is the only sense in which they may be called opposite. The 
same is probably true of the emotional sense, but so compli- 
cated and involved are these internal phenomena that it is 
unprofitable to speculate upon them. 

A kindred error is that pleasure is the positive and pain the 
negative element. Both are positive and very unlike. There 
is nothing more positive than pain, although of the two, as 
will be seen, it is the one whose absence or elimination can be 
most easily conceived. Neither is it to quite the same extent 
the normal condition, and those philosophies which are based 
upon the postulate of necessary pain, or of the essential pre- 
dominance of pain, are the products of an unhappy social state 
rather than of a clear grasp of natural truth. But this much 
is clear, that, to use the current teleological forms of speech, 
Nature has no concern whatever for the degree of pleasure or 
of pain, but only for the preservation and perpetuation of the 
beings she has evolved. 

While, as above stated, there is a sense in which pain may 
be said to be a good, the scientific view here presented is 
nevertheless wholly opposed to that other philosophy which 
would seek to make it a desirable end of life. Created for the 

1 See foot-note to page 45. The broader application here made of this principle 
will, I believe, be borne out by further research. 



Origin and Function of Pleasure and Pain. 43 

purpose of warning the sentient being against dangers to life, 
unless it heeds that warning its function fails and it were 
better it had not been created. The principle taught by Bain 
and Spencer, and long before by Spinoza, 1 that pleasure leads 
to life and pain to death, that the pleasurable is the good and 
the painful is the bad, and that the duty of life is to pursue the 
former and avoid the latter, is thus seen to rest upon a funda- 
mental truth of organic development as well as to reflect the 
simplest dictates of common sense ; and the opposite doctrine 
is one of those deductions of the rational faculty which so 
frequently lead the world astray when not proceeding from a 
sound basis of acquired knowledge. As remarked in Chap. 
V, there is nothing more untrustworthy than the legitimate 
deliverances of the ignorant or error-laden intellect. But as 
showing that even those who would court pain and " mortify 
the flesh " themselves recognize the higher claims of common 
sense it is noteworthy that their philosophy is the outcome of 
a religion which teaches a future state of infinite misery or 
unlimited bliss, and that it is the belief that present pain will 
insure future pleasure in an increased degree which underlies 
their teachings, so that when this is remembered it is seen to 
be after all the maximum pleasure that they are seeking, and 
there is no essential difference in their general theory from 
that which science and common sense unite in enjoining. 

1 Laetitia directe mala non est, sed bona ; Tristitia autem contra directe est 
mala. SPINOZA : Ethica, Pars IV, Propositio XLI. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

NATURE OF THE SOUL. 

Biology has overthrown the anthropocentric theory as astronomy has the 
geocentric, and every creature lives in and for itself and shares with man to 
some degree the sublime attributes of mind and soul. Course of Biologic 
Evolution, p. 26. 

Angelangt an dieser aussersten psychologischen Consequenz unserer 
monistischen Entwickelungslehre begegnen wir uns mit jenen alten Vor- 
stellungen von der Beseelung aller Materie, welche schon in der Philosophie 
des DEMOKRITOS, SPINOSA, BRUNO, LEIBNIZ, SCHOPENHAUER einen ver- 
schiedenartigen Ausdriick gefunden haben. Denn alles Seelenleben lasst 
sich schliesslich auf die beiden Elementar-Functionen der Empfindung und 
Bewegung, auf ihre Wechselwirkung in der Reflexbewegung zuriickfiihren. 
Die einf ache Empfindung von Lust und Unlust, die einfache Bewegungsform 
der Anziehung und Abstossung, das sind die wahren Elemente, aus denen 
sich in unendlich mannichfaltiger und verwickelter Verbindung alle Seelen- 
thatigkeit aufbaut. ' Der Atome Hassen und Lieben,' Anziehung und Ab- 
stossung der Molekiile, Bewegung und Empfindung der Zellen, und der aus 
Zellen zusammengesetzten Organismen, Gedankenbildung und Bewusstsein 
des Menschen das sind nur verschiedene Stufen des universalen psycho- 
logischen Entwicklungsprocesses. ERNST HAECKEL : Die heutige Ent- 
wicklungslehre im Verhaltnisse zur Gesammtivissenschaft, p. 14. 

The night has a thousand eyes, 

And the day but one; 
Yet the light of the bright world dies 

With the dying sun. 
The mind has a thousand eyes, 

And the heart but one; 
Yet the light of the whole life dies 

When the day is done. 

FRANCIS W. BOURDILLON : Light. 

In view of the fact that the word sotil, like the word will, is 
a popular and not a technical one, and that all the elements 



Nature of the Soul. 45 

that it can be shown to possess are known by other special 
names and can be referred to their proper places in a system 
of psychology, some are disposed to drop the term altogether 
in all attempts to treat the mind scientifically, as liable to lead 
to confusion rather than contribute to clearness. But I think 
its retention can be justified as supplying a place which no 
other term in use now supplies, and in thus avoiding the neces- 
sity of introducing a new one. It is true that it expresses a 
complex conception whose elements may be separated and are 
specifically named, but there is need of a term to embrace these 
elements in combination, and thus frequently obviate a circum- 
locution, besides having the advantage of conveying a crystal- 
lized idea and familiarizing it. The English word has, indeed, 
many vague and unscientific associations from which it is diffi- 
cult to liberate it, but the corresponding German word Seele 
seems to be freer from these and is used by scientific writers 
in substantially the same sense that will be given here to the 
word soul. 

It is hardly necessary to say that this sense has little in com- 
mon with that given this term by religious writers and by the 
medieval or modern Christian writers. This latter sense, how- 
ever, is not noticeably different from that of the New Testament 
(^vxn in the Greek and anima in the Latin Vulgate), and no 
complaint is made of its use by these writers. Neither does it 
differ essentially from the earlier Greek usage or from that of 
Scipio the younger, Cicero, and others who, long anterior to 
Christianity, speculated upon immortality if they did not teach it. 
That doctrine, as shown by Tylor, was not such a stranger to 
other nations as it was to the Hebrews, and the distinctive 
characteristic of Christianity was the engrafting of this foreign 
tenet upon Judaism in which it was previously unknown. 

But by none of these writers, whether pagan or Christian, was 
there ever any attempt to analyze the soul or to look upon it 
philosophically as a part of the mind. The conception was 
purely ontological, and by most the existence of a soul in man 



46 Subjective Factors. 

was simply taken for granted, while concern was only mani- 
fested for its future destiny after the corporeal part should have 
returned to its elements. There is, however, one important 
respect in which this conception harmonizes with the scientific 
one, and that is the uniform investiture of it with the capacity 
for enjoying and suffering. In whatever language and from 
whatever standpoint the soul has ever been mentioned it has 
always been identified with pleasure and pain and made to em- 
body the deepest expression of sympathy and feeling. 

If therefore we define the soul as the feelings taken collectively 
we do but echo the common sentiment of all mankind in all 
countries and all ages. Still, this definition falls short in one 
particular of expressing the full conception as it presents itself 
to the mind, and it is necessary to add to it the notion con- 
tained in the workings of the conative powers, as set forth in 
Chap. VI. The full definition of the soul therefore becomes : 
The collective feelings of organic beings and their resultant 
efforts. 

No subject can be thoroughly understood without prolonged 
investigation, and profound reflection. Down to the present 
century the soul, notwithstanding the amount of time and energy 
expended upon it, had never been the subject of any such critical 
study. A great amount of keen analysis and ingenious spec- 
ulation had been given to the thinking and knowing faculty, and 
it must be admitted that the real knowledge of the objective 
side of the mind had been considerably advanced. But the 
philosophers who were capable of doing this studiously avoided 
turning their attention to the soul, doubtless from a vague 
apprehension that should they do so it might prove capable of 
analysis whereby its ontological oneness would be destroyed 
and the supposed foundations of religion and hopes for the 
future would be put in jeopardy. On the other hand theologians 
and religious writers possessed no such powers of analysis, and 
accepting their alleged knowledge of the soul from sacred writ, 
had no disposition or inducement to make it the subject of 



Nature of the Soul. 47 

speculative inquiry. Although laboring directly for a state of 
infinite happiness for the soul they would resent any insinuation 
that this was equivalent to seeking the maximum pleasure, and 
although hoping eventually to attain to a condition of the most 
exalted feeling they would deny with warmth that feeling 
was in any sense a proper end to pursue. All men vied in 
their efforts to degrade the feelings and by constantly measuring 
all feelings by the lowest succeeded in fastening a stigma upon 
most terms employed to describe them, as witness the words 
sensual and sensuality. Even the wealth of the German lan- 
guage in its vocabulary of attributes of the mind was incapable 
of furnishing such a master of it as Kant with a term for the 
subjective psychic phenomena which should be free from these 
implications, and he was driven to use for this purpose the word 
Sinnlichkeit in an altogether new and technical sense, the 
popular one implying something even more gross or specialized 
than its English analogue sensuality. Thus tabooed, the ani- 
mated feelings, or true soul, could not be expected to receive 
that penetrating criticism which alone could yield a true con- 
ception of its nature, and the whole subject remained, philo- 
sophically and scientifically speaking, a terra incognita 1 It was 
given over entirely to other agencies, to art, literature, religion, 
and government, all of which proceeded blindly and added 
nothing to its extent or fruitfulness. 

But with the introduction of the scientific method and its 
all-exploring spirit, so fertile a field could not longer remain 
uncultivated. As the body began to be made the theater of 
research and the brain and nervous system to be studied, the 
functions of these organs attracted more and more the attention 

1 But the grievous lack of generally accepted results is most apparent in the 
domain of feeling. The discussion of feeling in most manuals is very meagre and 
unsatisfactory. ... It is obvious, then, on the most cursory review that very 
little has been accomplished in the pure psychology of feeling. Here is a region 
almost unexplored, and which, by reason of the elusiveness and obscurity of the 
phenomena has seemed to some quite unexplorable. HIRAM M. STANLEY in 
Science, Oct. 7, 1892, Vol. XX, pp. 203-204. 



4& Subjective Factors. 

of physiologists ; and a new psychology was introduced which, 
naturally enough, has no sympathy or patience with the old. 
But by a sort of induction in the varied approximate electric 
thought-currents the students of pure mind began to feel the 
new impulse and unconsciously to change the base of their 
speculations. This change of base consisted chiefly in over- 
coming the former aversion to the study of the subjective side 
of mind, and taking the bare hint thrown out by Kant, to 
subject the feelings and conative faculty to the cold glance 
of reason. In a future chapter (Chap. X) I shall dwell espec- 
ially upon one such philosophical system and endeavor to show 
some of the results which this movement, as yet scarcely 
begun, promises for the future. This revolution is proceeding 
from the intellect to the feelings and tending to transfer the 
working basis of philosophy from the reason to the soul. 
"^ The birth of the soul was the dawn of the psychic faculty. 
It marks an era in the cosmical history of the earth. Dimly 
and imperceptibly it worked through the primordial ages in the 
Silurian mollusk, the Devonian fish, and the Mesozoic reptile, 
producing scarcely any modification in the normal course of 
biologic evolution. During all these vast eons of time the 
only organic products of beauty or utility were such as nature 
.in her objectless march chanced to produce. But with the 
advent of the highly developed insects in late Cretaceous and 
early Tertiary time the psychic factor began to react upon the 
plant world and, as I have several times pointed out, 1 flowers 
were the direct product of a growing esthetic faculty the 
response to the demands of a true soul-force in nature. Later 
the same agency working in bird life and mammalian life 

1 The relation between insects and plants, and the consensus in animal and 
vegetable life. The American Entomologist, Vol. Ill, New York, March, 1880, 
pp. 63-67 ; April, 1880, pp. 87-91. See especially, p. 87. 

The Course of Biologic Evohition, Annual Address of the President of the Bio- 
logical Society of Washington, delivered January 25, 1890. Proceedings, Vol. V, 
Washington, 1890, pp. 23-55. See especially, pp. 46-48 (pp. 24-26 of separately 
paged reprint). 



Nature of the Soul. 49 

ushered in the rich, showy and nutrient fruits of the forest 
and the bread-yielding grains of the meadow and the marsh. 
The wonderful revolution wrought by this same growing soul 
in the relations of the sexes among the creatures last mentioned 
has also been dwelt upon 1 and might fittingly form the theme 
of the future poetry of science. In human society, as I shall 
presently endeavor to show, the soul is the great trans^ 
forming agent which has worked its way up through the stageT 
of savagery and barbarism to civilization and enlightenment/ 
the power behind the throne of reason in the evolution of man. 

1 In later parts of the address last cited. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE PHILOSOPHY OF DESIRE. 

The state which prompts the organism to seek any object whatever is 
properly, though to limited degrees of intensity, a state of pain. But the 
inclination to seek an object is desire, and thus desire is psychologically a 
painful state. Desire may, therefore, be called negative pain, being the 
disagreeable state experienced from a lack of the means of fulfilling a 
normal function, as distinguished f rom positive pain, which is the disagree- 
able state experienced from having been deprived of such means previously 
possessed. Dynamic Sociology, II, 149. 

Cupiditas est ipsa hominis essentia, quatenus ex data quacunque ejus 
affectione determinata concipitur ad aliquid agendum. SPINOZA : Ethica, 
Pars III. Affectuum Definitiones, I. 

Id unusquisque ex legibus suae natune necessario appetit vel aversatur, 
quod bonum vel malum esse judicat. SPINOZA : Ethica, Pars IV, Propo- 
sitio XIX. 

La concupiscence et la force sont la source de toutes nos actions : la 
concupiscence fait les volontaires ; la force les involontaires. PASCAL : 
Penstes, I, p. 220. 



^ 
V $ 



7 



Desires are ideal feelings that arise when the real feelings to which 
they correspond have not been experienced for some time. HERBERT 
SPENCER : Principles of Psychology, I, p. 126. 

There are pains arising from states of inaction pains we call them, 
since we here use the word as antithetical to pleasures ; but they are best 
known as discomforts or cravings, from having a quality in which they are 
like one another and unlike pains commonly so called. Ibid., p. 273. 

When there come to be cases in which two very similar groups of 
external attributes and relations have been followed in experience by 
different motor changes ; and when, consequently, the presentation of one 
of these groups partially excites two sets of motor changes, each of which is 
prevented by their mutual antagonism from at once taking place ; then, 
while one of these sets of nascent motor changes and nascent impressions 
habitually accompanying it, constitutes a memory of such motor changes 



The Philosophy of Desire. 5 1 

as before performed and impressions as before received, and while it also 
constitutes a prevision of the action appropriate to the new occasion, it 
further constitutes the desire to perform the action. Ibid., p. 481. 

Alles Wollen entspringt aus Bediirfniss, also aus Mangel, also aus. 
Leiden. Diesem macht die Erfiallung ein Ende. SCHOPENHAUER : 
Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, I, 230-231. 

Der Wunsch ist, seiner Natur nach, Schmerz : die Erreichung gebiert 
schnell Sattigung : das Ziel war nur scheinbar: der Besitz nimmt den Reiz 
weg : unter einer neuen Gestalt stellt sich der Wunsch, das Bediirfniss 
wieder ein : wo nicht, so folgt Oede, Leere, Langeweile, gegen welche der 
Kampf eben so qualend ist, wie gegen die Noth. Ibid., 370. 

Jede Befriedigung nur ein hinweggenommener Schmerz, kein gebrachtes 
positives Gliick ist. Ibid., 443. 

Sed dum abest quod avemus, id exsuperare videtur 
Cetera ; post aliut, cum contigit illud, avemus 
Et sitis aequa tenet vitai semper hiantis. 

LUCRETIUS: De Rerum Natura, III, 1082-1084. 

Nihil enim aeque gratum est adeptis quam concupiscentibus. PLINY 
THE YOUNGER : Epist. XV. 

It has been a thousand times observed, and I must observe it once more, 
that the hours we pass with happy prospects in view are more pleasing than 
those crowned with fruition. GOLDSMITH: Vicar of Wakefield, I, 337. 

It was shown in Chap. VI that intensive sensations nor- 
mally give rise to immediate movements towards the pleasure- 
and from the pain-producing object. With the simpler or 
presentative sensations, feeling, taste, and smell, this is usually 
possible since the object is already present and in contact with 
the nerve. The hand shrinks from the hot iron ; the mouth 
closes more and more upon the savory morsel or quaffs the 
pleasant beverage. But with sensations at all remote, that 
is, with those which are in any degree representative, the 
movement may be in whole or in part prevented. If, for 
example, the food or drink be merely seen at a greater or less 
distance, even if a movement toward it is immediately begun, 
time is required to reach it, and should obstacles intervene it 
may be brought to rest. So if danger be reported by sound 



52 S^tbject^ve Factors. 

or sight, and flight from it be impeded by confinement or 
chains, motion does not result. Nevertheless the sensation 
thus representatively produced exists and the state of con- 
.sciousness endures for a longer or shorter period. This state 
of consciousness is a desire either to approach or to retreat. 

Representative sensations are necessarily derivative. The 
first organic being, though it were of a high type of structure, 
would be incapable of desire. Desire presupposes a psychic 
apparatus built up by the psychic process. Its essential pre- 
requisite is the registration of impressions and the continuity 
of conscious states. In short, desire presupposes memory. A 
representative sensation is a remembered sensation, and desires 
are the recorded and remembered pains and pleasures of sen- 
tient beings. 

The simple presentative sensations, though common enough, 
are little noted and comparatively unimportant. The more com- 
plex representative ones are constantly arising and in the higher 
forms of life become the dominant states of consciousness, 
absorbing attention and making up the greater part of the life 
of all sentient beings. The examples given are among the 
simplest. The principal cases are those residing in the in- 
ternal emotions. In man these latter assume supreme impor- 
tance and overshadow all others. The entire being is a theater 
of multiplied desires seeking satisfaction through appropriate 
action, but checked in a thousand ways and encountering innu- 
merable obstacles. There results a perpetual striving to attain 
the objects of desire. The full significance of the conative 
faculty cannot be comprehended until this truth is clearly 
grasped. It is the principle of effort or exertion (conari, to 
endeavor) constantly in active operation, leading to all forms of 
action. It is this too that rounds out the conception of the 
soul, and without which it possesses little meaning. 

I use the word desire in a highly generic sense, broad enough 
to embrace every inclination to act in obedience to intensive 
representative feelings of whatever class. These " springs of 



The Philosophy of Desire. 53 

action " are manifold and may be variously classified. The 
primary conception is that of appetence^ and under this are in- 
cluded all appetites. Most imperative of all are the desires that 
conduce to self-sustentation, hunger and thirst. Including with 
these the other indispensable needs of the body, such as cloth- 
ing and shelter for man in cold climates, we have a congeries 
which can be conveniently grouped under the general term 
want. Next in degree of essentialness, if it does not hold an 
equal or higher rank, is that which demands the perpetuation 
of the species, the sexual appetite, and this, when viewed from 
the human, social standpoint, clothed with all the secondary 
attributes which civilization has given it, and refined and 
spiritualized by the moral elevation of intelligence and culture, 
becomes expanded into a lofty sentiment and may be charac- 
terized by the general term love. To these must be added the 
social, esthetic, moral, and intellectual cravings, the yearning 
after the beautiful, the good, and the true. 

Even this sweeping classification falls far short of conveying 
an adequate conception of the conative powers, or soul-force in 
nature. Every emotion belongs to this faculty and helps to 
swell the vast tide of surging passion that propels the ship of 
sentient life. All animated nature is burning and seething 
with intensified desires. On the one hand, we have attractions, 
charms, allurements, and enchantments ; hopes, aspirations, 
longings ; determination, zeal, ambition ; and on the other 
hand we have fear, dread, apprehension ; avoidance, aversion, 
abhorrence ; disgust, hate, envy ; rivalry, jealousy, anger ; rage, 
fury, and despair. In another direction are seen grief, sorrow, 
sadness, repentance and remorse, as the expressions of the 
unattained, misdirected, or irretrievably lost. Even satiety, 
surfeit, tedium, and ennui become intolerable demands for the 
exercise of normal physical functions. 

So widely varying, complex, and recondite are these affective 
phenomena of mind that it is not surprising that their common 
bond of union should have been usually lost sight of, and the 



54 Subjective Factors. 

( general truth ignored that they represent a single great fact, 
[conation the universal struggle for the satisfaction of desire. 
And so different do the manifold desires appear to be, that 
only by giving the subject the closest attention is it possible 
to arrive at a general conception of their true nature. One 
truth at least seems to have been clearly grasped and ade- 
quately recognized, and that is that desire in its essential 
nature is a form of pain. It is true that there are some de- 
sires that it is customary to associate with pleasure, and many 
confound them with pleasures, but when closely studied it will 
always be found that this is due to the difficulty in separating 
the desire from its appropriate object. It is often almost im- 
possible to concentrate the attention upon the purely cona- 
tive state and disregard entirely for the time being the end 
which it seeks to attain. This difficulty does not exist in 
such desires as hunger, where the acknowledged painful state 
receives the special name of pangs. Similarly with thirst, but 
with love, even in its primary form, the pleasurable end be- 
comes intimately associated with the instinct. It needs, how- 
ever, only to be conceived as never attaining its object to 
bring out its painful nature in clear light. Not so the more 
involved states of that passion in refined natures. Such love 
is conceived to be a joy and a great good. But here again it 
is requited love that occupies the foreground, and the constant 
presence of the one loved is the thing thought. Remove this 
associated idea and think only of love itself, the object toward 
which it is directed being wholly left out of the mind, and 
conceive this state to continue indefinitely, as when that object 
is dead, permanently absent, married to another, or incapable 
of returning any part of the sentiment. No one, I think, will 
deny that under any of these circumstances it were better not 
to love. Ergo, love is pain. Even the other forms of love in 
which sex takes no part, as parental, filial, fraternal love, or 
merely warm friendship that takes that name, any of these 
in the permanent absence of the object is painful. In case of 



The Philosophy of Desire. 55 

death it becomes grief, often inconsolable, and even temporary 
separation causes anxiety, longing, and sadness, which are cer- 
tainly not pleasurable feelings. And so we might go through 
the list and show that in every case desire pure and simple, in 
and of itself, is pain. 

But the final and crucial test of the question consists in the 
patent fact that all the effort that is put forth in obedience to 
desires is in the direction of satisfying them. And to satisfy 
a desire is simply to allay it, i.e., to terminate it. In other 
words, the unpleasant nature of desires is proved by the fact 
that we always seek to end them. Correctly understood, all 
the enormous exertions of life are made for the sole purpose of 
getting rid of the swarm of desires that goad and pursue every 
living being from birth to death. Too much has not been made 
of this fact by a certain class of writers who have laid stress 
upon it, and the better it is understood the clearer will be the 
true conception of the subjective nature of mind. No one 
need be afraid to face this truth. Those who shrink from the 
corollaries that have been drawn from it, need not shrink from 
the truth itself. I shall endeavor to show that some of these 
corollaries do not legitimately flow from it. I shall also hope 
to make clear that other corollaries that have never been drawn, 
do, and must necessarily follow, and that these latter are of the 
utmost importance and promise the greatest results for the 
future welfare of man. 

This much, at least, has been learned, that desire is the all- 
pervading, world-animating principle, the universal nisus and 
pulse of nature, the mainspring of all action, and the life- 
power of the world. It is organic force. Its multiple forms, 
like the many forces of the physical world, are the varied ex- 
pressions of one universal force. They are transmutable into 
one another. Their sum is unchanged thereby, and all vital 
energy is conserved. It is the basis of psychic physics and 
the only foundation for a science of mind. 

It should, however, be added that the parallel between physics 



56 Subjective Factors. 

and psychics, as thus defined, fails at one point. While, so far 
as is known, there has never been any loss of psychic energy, 
it is certain that there has been an immense increase of it. 
Indeed, time was when none existed. It has developed or been 
evolved with all organic nature and has increased pari passu 
with the increase of mind and the development of brain. Com- 
plete analogy between the organic and inorganic forces is not 
reached until it is recognized that the former are derived from 
the latter, and that vital and psychic forces are simply addi- 
tional forms of the universal force. The soul of man has come 

(from the soul of the atom after passing through the great 

^aTembic of organic life. 

While all desire is pain all pain is not desire, except in the 
sense of an inclination to escape it. Ordinary pains are not 
the desires themselves but causes of action. They are more 
or less peripheral and direct, whereas, as above shown, desires 
usually arise from within, are representative, and more or less 
emotional. These fall under two classes : those which shun 
pain, and those which seek pleasure. It is when we study 
these two classes of desires that we perceive most clearly the 
essential difference between pain and pleasure psychologically 
viewed. It has already been shown that they are not op- 
posites. It remains to be shown that they are essentially dis- 
similar psychological factors. Pain is the more simple, is 
less capable of analysis. Developed for the purpose of pro- 
tecting the organism from destruction, it consists simply in a 
disagreeable sensation giving rise to instantaneous effort to 
move from the object producing it. The simultaneity of con- 
tact and movement allow no interval of time for the occur- 
rence of a desire, at least the time is only so long as it requires 
for the nerve currents to perform their function, which is too 
short to be taken into the account. Such is the nature of all 
direct or presentative pains, i.e., of all pains other than desires, 
and little more can be said of them. They admit of no further 
analysis. 



The Philosophy of Desire. 57 

Presentative pleasures are much more limited. They are 
practically restricted to the senses of taste and smell. In 
these, as in pains of the same class, no desire intervenes be- 
tween the contact and the pleasure. The latter is immediate. 
In order to make all possible exclusions, it is necessary to 
admit that agreeable sounds and objects agreeable to the eye 
usually give rise to the corresponding pleasures directly with- 
out the intervention of anything that can be properly called a 
desire. Possibly other cases of this class may exist. Group- 
ing all these under the head of presentative pleasures, there 
remains the great class of representative pleasures, forming by 
far the larger part of all enjoyments. 

If now we limit attention to this class of pleasures, and 
agree that by pleasure only representative pleasure shall be 
understood, we may appropriately inquire what pleasure really 
consists in. To this at once the answer and the proper defi- 
nition of pleasure, must be : the satisfaction of desire. That is 
to say, the predominant class of pleasures consists in the termi- 
nation of the predominant class of pains. As already argued, 
pleasure is not the desire itself. It is the satisfaction of that 
desire. Although desire is of the nature of pain, and is pain 
in every proper sense of the word, still it is very unlike the 
simple direct pains of the external parts. If we seek among 
these latter for its analogue the nearest we find to it is prob- 
ably the phenomenon of itching. We must class this phe- 
nomenon among painful states, because it calls forth an effort 
to terminate it as quickly as possible, and yet the act neces- 
sary to put an end to it yields what all probably recognize as 
a pleasure. Itching, therefore, may be called a direct physical 
desire. If allowed to continue it becomes intolerable, and is 
therefore a pain. If the act which it prompts is performed 
the desire is satisfied and at the same time terminated. The 
act itself of satisfying it is a pleasure. If all these steps 
be admitted, the analogy with all other desires is complete. 
Desire is essentially prurient in its nature. It is this which 



58 Subjective Factors. 

makes it so effective. Every one knows how much more bear- 
able pain proper is than itching. Unsatisfied desires become 
unbearable, they charge the batteries of force till they can 
contain no more; the discharge produces a shock and performs 
extraordinary feats, whether for good or evil. 

The desire satisfied and terminated, what follows ? Restora- 
tion of equilibrium. Whatever may have been accomplished 
upon surrounding objects by the discharge of conative energy 
the only effect upon the subject is the termination of the un- 
pleasant conscious state. True, the desire was satisfied and 
the act of satisfying it produced the pleasure sought, but after 
that, nothing ! Not only is the pain gone, but the pleasure is 
also gone. Equilibrium is restored and the subject is again in 
the same condition as before the desire arose. Just here lies 
the question upon the answer to which the truth or falsity of 
pessimism depends. That doctrine will recognize nothing be- 
tween the existence of a desire and its termination. Admitting 
that desire is pain, it sees only pain and the relief of pain. 
The satisfaction of desire, it says, is simply the termination of 
it. After that nothing remains. The popular association of 
pleasure with the satisfaction of desire it declares to be a delu- 
sion and a self-deception. Can this doctrine be successfully 
refuted ? It is not enough to dogmatize against it. It has 
been exhaustively elaborated by some of the greatest scholars 
and deepest thinkers of the world, and their arguments must 
be squarely met. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE WILL OF SCHOPENHAUER. 

Nicht allein in denjenigen Erscheinungen, welche seiner eigenen ganz 
ahnlich sind, in Menschen und Thieren, wird er als ihr innerstes Wesen 
jenen namlichen Willen anerkennen ; sondern die fortgesetzte Reflexion 
wird ihn dahin leiten, auch die Kraft, welche in der Pflanze treibt und 
vegetirt, ja, die Kraft durch welche der Krystall anschiesst, die, welche den 
Magnet zum Nordpol wendet, die, deren Schlag ihm aus der Beriihrung 
heterogener Metalle entgegenfahrt, die, welche in den Wahlverwandtschaf- 
ten der Stoffe als Fliehen und Suchen, Trennen und Vereinen erscheint, ja, 
zuletzt sogar die Schwere, welche in aller Materie so gewaltig strebt, den 
Stein zur Erde und die Erde zur Sonne zieht, diese alle nur in der 
Erscheinung fiir verschieden, ihrem inneren Wesen nach aber als das Selbe 
zu erkennen, als jenes ihm unmittelbar so intim und besser als alles 
Andere Bekannte, was da, wo es am deutlichsten hervortritt, Wille 
heisst. SCHOPENHAUER: Welt als Wille, I, 131. 

Es giebt in der letzten und hochsten Instanz gar kein anderes Seyn als 
Wollen. Wollen ist Urseyn, und auf dieses allein passen alle Eradicate 
desselben : Grundlosigkeit, Ewigkeit, Unabhangigkeit von der Zeit, Selbst- 
bejahung. Die ganze Philosophic strebt nur dahin, diesen hochsten Aus- 
druck zu finden. SCHELLING : Werke I, 7, S. 350. 

Wille, die eigentliche geistige Substanz des Menschen, der Grund von 
Allem, das urspriinglich Stoff-Erzeugende, das Einzige im Menschen, das 
Ursache von Seyn ist. SCHELLING : Werke, I, 10, S. 289. 

Wie Kant der grosste Philosoph ist, der iiber den Kopf geschrieben hat, 
so ist Schopenhauer der grosste Denker, der iiber das Herz philosophirte. 
MAINLANDER : Philosophie der Erlosung, p. 465. 

Dies [Schopenhauer's doctrine of the will] war ein glanzendes geniales 
Apergu, und ich befiirchte nicht, mich einer Uebertreibung schuldig zu 
machen, wenn ich sage, dass es eine Revolution auf geistigem Gebiete 
eingeleitet hat, welche ahnliche Umgestaltungen in der Welt hervorrufen- 
wird, wie die vom Christenthum bewirkten. MAINLANDER : Ibid., p. 466. 

Great thinkers are condemned, not for their theorems, but 
for their corollaries, and further analysis often proves that the 



60 Subjective Factors. 

latter do not logically flow from the former. It was so with 
Hume, so with Voltaire, so with Comte, so with Thomas Paine, 
and it was so with Schopenhauer. The two great philosophical 
heresies of Schopenhauer were his idealism and his pessimism. 
Both these he believed to follow from his two basic conceptions, 
his Satz vom Grunde and his Wille. The former was the first 
philosophical establishment of the law of causation in nature, 
now recognized as the foundation of all science. The latter 
was the first enunciation of the unity of psychic and physical 
force, the highest and most involved example of the law of the 
conservation of energy, formulated much later by the physicists. 
If, as most persons believe, truth really is to "prevail," then, 
when pessimism and idealism shall have become historic 
curiosities, Schopenhauer will be universally recognized as the 
philosopher who created two epochs. 

With the first of these philosophic fundamentals we have 
here nothing to do. It belongs to cosmology and has received 
universal acceptance. The second is the essence of our present 
theme, and is scarcely known, much less understood, even by 
those who devote themselves to philosophic psychology. It is 
the practice, whenever Schopenhauer's name is pronounced, to 
throw up the hands and exclaim, Pessimist ! Those who read 
his books skim over everything else till they reach his pessi- 
mism and hang spellbound over this alone. The more it is con- 
demned the more greedily it is devoured. Yet those who 
denounce it most vehemently are those who have not read it. 
On the other hand, it is receiving a wide acceptance in certain 
quarters where the hard conditions of existence seem to give it 
special countenance. I have already intimated that it does not 
logically follow from Schopenhauer's doctrine of the will, and 
this view will be more fully substantiated in the next chapter. 
But first let us inquire into the real meaning of Schopenhauer's 
will. 

We may begin by saying that, so far as sentient beings are 
concerned, the will of Schopenhauer is nothing more nor less 



The Will of Schopenhauer. 61 

than the generalized conception denned in the last chapter and 
denominated desire. It is the universal soul-force operating 
under the inexorable law of the sufficient reason or mechanical 
causation, which constitutes the only basis for the real science 
of mind. It is the underlying cause of all the efforts and 
activities of animated nature. It is purely subjective. In and 
of itself it has nothing whatever to do with the rational faculty. 
In calling it unconscious Schopenhauer simply means this. It 
is blind impulse (blinder Drang}. All exertion, all interest, all 
strife and struggle represent the assertion of the will to live 
(Bejahung des Willens ziim Leben}. This great truth is forced 
home with all the power of the German language, so rich in 
synonyms and so forcible in construction. 1 

Schopenhauer realized that he had found in this conception 
of the will the true basis of mind, and he proceeded to endow 
it with objective reality, even raising it to the dignity of being 
the long sought Ding an sick, or thing in itself. As such it 
was declared to tower in importance far above the reason and 
the intellect. From one point of view he was correct, for this 
it is which constitutes the dynamic basis of mind without 
which reason and intellect would have nothing to work upon. 

He also rightly perceived that the will had priority in point 
of time over the thinking faculties, and so firmly did this truth 
take possession of him that he was wont to belittle the latter 
and exalt the former. Thus he declared, and not without 
sound reason, that the intellect was merely an accident, a late 
graft as it were upon the full-grown tree of mind; that the 
will was the primary trunk of that tree. It is true, as shown 
in a previous chapter, that the soul-force itself, when con- 
sidered as a development from the original elements of life, 

1 Among the many terms employed by Schopenhauer to compass this widely 
generic conception of the Wille the following may serve as samples : Wollen, 
Wunsch, Suchen, Versuchen, Sehnen, Sehnsucht, Bestreben, Bestrebung, Streben, 
Trieb, Drangen, Drang, Begierde, Begehren, Anstrengung, Driicken, Stoss, Jagd, 
Neigung, Reiz, Regung, Leiden, Qualen, Lieben, Hassen, Hoffen, Fiirchten, 
Leidenschaft, Angst, Ueberdruss, Leere, Langeweile, Reue, Wuth, Zorn, etc. 



62 Subjective Factors. 

is in this same sense an accident and a late graft, but whether 
we look at it from the actual standpoint of geologic history 
or from the broader standpoint of structural development, the 
organ and function of thought is something extremely modern, 
while the conative system is old. Their relative antiquity is 
somewhat like that of the glacial epoch when compared with 
the Eocene, which to a geologist has a tremendous significance. 
The preeminent service which Schopenhauer has rendered 
to philosophy has been that of turning the current of thought 
out of the old and hopeless channels of objective psychology 
into the new and promising channels of subjective psychology. 
Here, and here alone, is there hope for a science of mind. 



CHAPTER XI. 

REFUTATION OF PESSIMISM. 

Alle Befriedigung, oder was man gemeinhin Gliick nennt, ist eigentlich 
und wesentlich immer nur negativ and durchaus nie positiv. Es ist nicht 
eine urspriinglich und von selbst auf uns kommende Begliickung, sondern 
muss immer die Befriedigung eines Wunsches seyn. Denn Wunsch, d. h. 
Mangel, ist die vorhergehende Bedingung jedes Genusses. Mit der Be- 
friedigung hort aber der Wunsch und folglich der Genuss auf. Daher 
kann die Befriedigung oder Begliickung nie mehr seyn, als die Befreiung 
von einem Schmerz, von einer Noth. SCHOPENHAUER : Welt als Wille, 
I, 376. 

Uebrigens kann ich hier die Erklarung nicht zuriickhalten, dass mir der 
Optimismus, wo er nicht etwan das gedankenlose Reden Solcher ist, unter 
deren platten Stirnen nichts als Worte herbergen, nicht bloss als eine 
absurde, sondern auch als eine wahrhaft ruchlose Denkungsart erscheint, 
als ein bitterer Hohn iiber die namenlosen Leiden der Menschheit. 
SCHOPENHAUER : Ibid., 384-385. 

Ainsi nous ne vivons jamais, mais nous esperons de vivre ; et nous 
disposant toujours a etre heureux, il est inevitable que nous ne le soyons 
jamais. PASCAL : Pensees, II, 41. 

Man hat mich immer als einen vom Gliick besonders Begiinstigten 
gepriesen ; auch will ich mich nicht beklagen und den Gang meines Lebens 
nicht schelten. Allein im Grunde ist es nichts als Miihe und Arbeit 
gewesen, und ich kann wohl sagen, dass ich in meinen fiinfundsiebzig 
Jahren keine vier Wochen eigentliches Behagen gehabt. Es war das 
ewige Walzen eines Steines, der immer von neuem gehoben sein wollte. 
GOETHE : Eckermann's Gesprache, I, 106. 

Ich bin nicht geschaffen, um Familienvater zu sein. Ausserdem halte 
ich das Heirathen fiir eine Siinde, das Kinderzeugen fur ein Verbreclien. 

Es ist auch meine Ueberzeugung, dass derjenige ein Narr, noch mehr : 
ein Sunder ist, der das Joch der Ehe auf sich nimmt. Ein Narr, weil er 
seine Freiheit damit von sich wirft, ohne eine entsprechende Entschadigung 
zu gewinnen ; ein Siinder, weil er Kindern das Leben giebt, ohne ihnen die 
Gewissheit des Clucks geben zu konnen. Ich verachte die Menschheit in 
alien ihren Schichten ; ich sehe es voraus, das unsere Nachkommen noch 



64 Subjective Factors. 

weit ungliicklicher sein werden, als wir, sollte ich nicht ein Sunder sein, 
wenn ich trotz diesen Ansichten fiir Nachkommen, d. h. ftir Ungliickliche 
sorgte ? 

Das ganze Leben ist der grosste Unsinn. Und wenn man achtzig Jahre 
strebt und forscht, so muss man sich doch endlich gestehen, dass man 
Nichts erstrebt und Nichts erforscht hat. Wtissten wir nur wenigstens, 
warum wir auf dieser Welt sind? Aber Alles ist und bleibt dem Denker 
rathselhaft, und das grosste Gliick ist noch das, als Flachkopf geboren zu 
sein. HUMBOLDT : Memoiren, I, 365-367. 

Whoever was to be born at all, was to be born a child, and to do before 
he could understand, and be bred under laws to which he was always bound, 
but which could not always be exacted; and he was to choose, when he 
could not reason, and had passions most strong, when he had his under- 
standing most weak, and was to ride a wild horse without a bridle, and 
the more need he had of curb, the less strength he had to use it; and this 
being the case of all the world, what was every man's evil, became all 
men's greater evil; and though alone it was very bad, yet when they came 
together it was made much worse ; like ships in a storm, every one alone 
hath enough to do to outride it ; but when they meet, besides the evils 
of the storm, they find the intolerable calamity of their mutual concussion, 
and every ship that is ready to be oppressed with the tempest, is a worst 
tempest to every vessel, against which it is violently dashed. So it is 
in mankind, every man hath evil enough of his own; and it is hard for 
a man to live soberly, temperately, and religiously ; but when he hath 
parents and children, brothers and sisters, friends and enemies, buyers and 
sellers, lawyers and physicians, a family and a neighborhood, a king over 
him, or tenants under him, a bishop to rule in matters of government 
spiritual, and a people to be ruled by him in the affairs of their souls; then 
it is that every man dashes against another, and one relation requires what 
another denies; and when one speaks, another will contradict him; and that 
which is well spoken, is sometimes innocently mistaken, and that upon 
a good cause produces an evil effect; and by these, and ten thousand other 
concurrent causes, man is made more than most miserable. JEREMY 
TAYLOR: Works, IX, 316. 

Youth is a blunder ; Manhood a struggle ; Old Age a regret. 
DISRAELI: Coningsby, p. 118. 

There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away. BYRON. 
Pessimism is the negation of pleasure. 1 It was shown in 

1 Both Schopenhauer and Hartmann recognize the reality of pleasure, and spend 
much time in seeking to prove that it is greatly exceeded in amount by pain. But 



{0 Refutation of Pessimism. 65 

Ghap. IX that in the normal case the satisfaction of a desire 
("terminates it and leaves the subject in the same condition 
[psychologically as before the desire arose. This is clear from 
the habitual use of the word satisfy and the universal admission 
of its appropriateness to express the fact. For nothing can be 
more than satisfied. Enough has no comparative. This is ex- 
pressed with force and euphony in the German proverb : Satter 
wie satt kann man nicht werden. 

This much settled, the question recurs: Does anything 
intervene between the desire and its satisfaction ? Is the pain- 
ful state called desire continuous up to the time when it ceases 
altogether and the mind reverts to the antecedent state ? A 
negative answer to this question would deny the existence of 
pleasure, relegate happiness to the limbo of delusions, and make 
pessimism the only true philosophy. 

The answer to pessimism comes from psychometry. It 
comes from the experimental demonstration that all psychic 
phenomena consume time. If the act of gratifying a desire 
were absolutely instantaneous there would be no answer to 
the pessimist. We should, as he claims, have all the great 
struggles of life with no other reward than that of putting an 
end, one after another, from childhood to old age, to the intoler- 
able scourges that successively beset every life. Experience 
teaches that such is not the case, but it has been proved that 
in matters relating to the mind experience is not a reliable 
guide. The hallucinations of the rational faculty are among 
the best known of psychic phenomena. Scarcely less common 
and well attested are those of the senses themselves. How 
much more deceiving must be those emotional states that be- 
long to the most derivative and involved of mental phenomena. 
Moreover, there is an especial reason why these latter should 

Schopenhauer expressly declares that it consists simply in relief from pain, and 
this is probably also Hartmann's idea. This is a mere negative state and does not 
deserve to be called pleasure, It therefore remains true that pessimism denies 
the existence of positive pleasure. It does this logically at all events, irrespective 
of the views of these philosophers. 



66 Subjective Factors. 

be illusive. It has been seen that they were developed to pre- 
serve existence. Nature has no concern for them as ends. 
They are for her purely means to the great end of continued 
and increasing life. It is to this end that every being is made 
a magazine of hopes. The reason is perpetually called upon to 
subdue extravagant expectations. Even in man those individ- 
uals are rare whose judgments are of any value against their 
interests. Prediction of results is in most cases nothing better 
than betrayal of preferences. Men as a rule believe that that 
will happen which they wish to happen. Optimism is only a 
higher expression of desire. It is the assertion of the will to 
live. No one is capable of balancing the profits and losses of 
life. The lower in the scale of intelligence the more complete 
this incapacity. The same innate sentiment which prompts 
the pursuit of pleasure and avoidance of pain makes every 
creature cling to life and fly from death, no matter how intoler- 
able life may be or what relief death would give. The soul is 
ihefons et origo of all illusions, purposely planted there, so to 
speak, to lure unhappy beings on to continue and multiply 
life. Fear of death is itself an illusion, since it is only pain 
and not death that is terrible. Faith, hope, buoyancy, en- 
thusiasm, all are born of this instinct of preservation. Tem- 
peraments indeed differ, but viewed in this light all are sanguine. 
Men are all Micawbers in varying degrees. It follows that in 
this great battle for life, this the real struggle for existence, 
truth and fact are wholly without influence in determining 
opinion and action. It is easy to conceive that enjoyment 
itself, which is the ostensible goal of it all, might be a com- 
plete delusion and have no existence. Much of it is, we know, 
purely imaginary, and why might it not all be so ? 

In view of all this it behooves those who teach the reality 
of pleasure and happiness to prove their existence by some- 
thing more than common experience. To attempt this it will 
be necessary to revert for a moment to direct or presentative 
sensations. So long as we consider only the indirect or repre- 



Refutation of Pessimism. 67 

sentative ones we are liable to be led astray by the all-powerful 
optimism of every mental constitution. But in this lower form 
we are once more on the firm ground of sense, and all philoso- 
phers, though admitting the fallibility of the senses, never- 
theless regard them as the absolutely highest criteria of truth. 
And in this they are speaking of perception, which is the 
second step in the psychic process. We are here concerned, 
with sensation, which is the first step, and as such one remove 
nearer still to the citadel of truth. If simple sensation cannot 
be relied upon there is no certainty anywhere. 

If I place a lump of sugar on my tongue, I experience a 
sensation. If normally constituted I can declare that sensa- 
tion to be agreeable, and no one will assume to gainsay that 
declaration. If I do not know it myself, then there is nothing 
that I can claim to know. As compared with Descartes' dictum 
its sanction is immensely greater. There is no ergo in it. 
It is the simplest possible proposition: I experience an agree- 
able sensation. With those who would dispute it it would 
be unprofitable to argue, although, if I were to say at any 
given moment: I am happy, there might be valid ground for 
questioning it on account of the complex nature of the sensa- 
tion and the deceptive character of all the emotional states. 

The second fact to be observed is that the sensation pro- 
duced by the sugar is not instantaneous or brief, but con- 
tinuous, lasting as long as the sugar lasts, though diminishing 
in force from an apparent gradual exhaustion of the capacity of 
the nerve to respond to the stimulus. Still it endures. Without 
multiplying illustrations the question may at once be asked: 
Is there any reason in the nature of things why the nerves 
that govern the emotional centres should not also possess the 
power of more or less prolonged response to their appropriate 
stimuli ? And is it not a natural supposition that the act of 
gratifying a desire, which is nothing more nor less than re- 
sponding to a stimulus, may be one which consumes more 
or less time ? The new experimental psychology leaves this 



/ 



68 Subjective Factors. 

no longer in the field of supposition. It demonstrates it as 
certainly as the problems of electricity are demonstrated. It 
is known that in psychics as in physics no phenomenon can 
take place except in time, and the velocity of nerve-currents, 
though varying greatly in different cases, are ascertained ap- 
proximately in many instances. They are very much less than 
those of most physical media, and in general it may be said 
that molecular motion is much slower in organic than in in- 
organic bodies. All this is highly favorable to the view that 
the nerve activities and vibrations taking place in the act of 
satisfying a desire may be considerably prolonged or in certain 
cases almost indefinitely continued. As to the exact physio- 
logical nature of this process it is not necessary here to in- 
quire. Whether there is actual continuity, or whether, as is 
more probable, the sensation of pleasure in all cases, presenta- 
tive as well as representative, consists in a series of more or 
less rapid vibrations or molecular discharges along the nerve 
from the point affected to the brain, so rapid as not to be 
separable in consciousness, and yet distinct from one another, 
Is clearly of no consequence to the argument. To all intents 
and purposes the mental state is a continuous one. 

In the higher emotions the duration of the pleasurable state 
is greater than in the lower ones. While in the primary phy- 
sical form of satisfying love it is only momentary, in the 
secondary spiritual form it seems to be indefinite in time. That 
' is, so long as the object is present the pleasure abides. It 

T would seem that the sentiment takes such complete possession 
of the individual, so thoroughly permeates the appropriate 

.y nerve centers, plexuses, and fibers, that they are set into a con- 

^ stant state of harmonious vibration throughout which renews 
itself momentarily and reverberates in moderate pulsations of , 
agreeable molecular activity so long as the stimulus remains. 

$V These words may be wholly unscientific but they are the best 
that can be used in the present state of knowledge respecting 
these deep, inner processes. 



Refutation of Pessimism. 69 

What is true of love is true also of other permanent pleasures 
and enjoyments. They are real at least to the subjects of 
them, and there is every reason to consider them objectively 
real. And this is the refutation of pessimism. It simply aims 
to prove that pleasure is an objective reality and not a psychic 
illusion. It does not pretend to deal with the great indictment 
against the woes of life. I look upon it as a mark of healthy^ 
mental development that there should have arisen philosophers, 
whose rational powers are keen enough to pierce the fogs of 
optimism in which the rest of the world is wrapped and who 
have been bold enough to announce that life is so largely made 
up of pain. Only by recognizing it can any mitigation of it be 
expected. But the despairing view that Schopenhauer and 
Hartmann take, borrowed from the philosophy of India, is 
based upon the supposed necessity of this state of things. 
With them it is the will perpetually driving its victims on 
toward some supposed goal of relief which is never attained, 
or if attained in the sense of the pain being simply ended, 
another and new scourge is applied, and so on indefinitely. 
Therefore they see no hope except in denying the will, resist- 
ing its power, abandoning all hope of happiness, refusing every 
proffered good, and letting every function cease until, with the 
cessation of life itself relief shall at last come through non-exis- 
tence. 

The answer to this side of the pessimistic philosophy is of a 
very different character from the last. It would be to antici- 
pate my theme to undertake it here, but that final answer may 
be foreshadowed by reverting to the origin and function of pain 
as set forth in Chap. VII. The woes of mankind must be 
looked upon as the voices of nature telling him how hard (the 
are being pressed by their environment, and how 
growing out of adaptation to it. Pessimism is the product of 
a hostile social state. Its answer is the substitution of a friendly 
social state. If this can be done it will disappear. The greatest 
problem_ that science has before it is that of overthrowing pes- 



70 Subjective Factors. 

simism in the only way in which it can be overthrown by the 
amelioration of the social state. The philosophy that stands 
opposed to pessimism and must ultimately triumph over it is 
not optimism, which is the gospel of inaction, but meliorism, 
which is scientific utilitarianism, inspired by faith in the law of 
causation and the efficacy of well-directed action. 



CHAPTER XII. 

HAPPINESS. 

It is quite remarkable that utilitarianism should have been most strongly 
defended by English-speaking writers, whose language is notably deficient 
in terms by which to convey the delicate shades of meaning required for its 
adequate elucidation. The need of a milder substitute for happiness has 
been seriously felt, and no doubt serves to obstruct the progress of rational 
views on this subject. That the defect is in the language and not in the 
conceptions is evident from the fact that most other languages possess 
better words. The French "bonheur" or the German " Gliickseligkeit" 
had they their counterpart in English, would afford a delightful relief. 
Dynamic Sociology ', II, 147. 

Gliickseligkeit ist die Befriedigung aller unserer Neigungen. KANT : 
Kritik der reinen Vernunft, p. 532. 

Thus recognizing, at the one extreme, the negative pains of inactions, 
called cravings, and, at the other extreme, the positive pains of excessive 
actions, the implication is that pleasures accompany actions lying between 
these extremes. HERBERT SPENCER : Principles of Psychology, I, p. 276. 

The idea that happiness is something different from pleasure 
probably requires no serious refutation. It prevailed formerly 
because there was supposed to be something essentially bad 
about pleasure, while happiness was regarded as morally per- 
missible. Now that we know that pleasure is the original good 
of the sentient world and the essential condition to vital ex- 
istence, there is no room for anything bad in it, considered in 
and of itself. 

But some will maintain that the idea of pleasure is associated 
more especially with the sensual feelings, while that of happi- 
ness connects itself with the higher emotional ones, and 
therefore requires special explanation. This is to some extent 
true, but it is perhaps more correct to define happiness as a 



72 Subjective Factors. 

condition of continuous or constantly recurring pleasures of 
whatever class, predominating largely over pains. It has vari- 
ous degrees from mere contentment to intense enjoyment. 
Giving the subject an analytical glance, happiness may be seen 
to require several conditions. The first of these is health. 
Unless the functions of the body are in harmonious operation 
nothing worthy of the name happiness can exist. And yet 
there is an immense difference in the power of different parts 
of the system to diminish happiness by their derangement. 
f Consumptives are often happy, even buoyant, to the last mo- 
ment of their lives, while dyspeptics are proverbially wretched, 
even when their ailment is so slight as to carry no serious 
menace of death. There seems to be no doubt that the reason 
for this wide difference lies in the fact that the lungs are sup- 
plied from the cerebro-spinal, while the stomach and intestines 
are supplied from the great sympathetic nervous system. 
Again, the extreme nervous suffering of women whose uterine 
systems are out of order is explicable, in the same way, while 
persons suffering severe pain upon some external part, as the 
finger, may still enjoy much of what life otherwise affords. 

It has been maintained that all that the most perfect health 
can do is to furnish the negative form of happiness known as 
contentment. But there are reasons to believe that the com- 
plete and harmonious performance by all the organs of the 
system of the normal functions assigned them possesses so 
great a volume of sustained satisfaction that it amounts to 
positive happiness in and of itself. The manner in which 
this takes place must be that described in Chap. VI (p. 32), 
where it was shown that the great ganglionic centers that pre- 
side over the so-called vegetative functions of the animal body 
are not wholly irresponsible to the supreme ganglion or brain, 
and that along with the proper regulation of the lower ganglia, 
plexuses, and specialized nerves, there goes a continuous gentle 
molecular discharge to the brain, notifying it, as it were, that 
all is well. It is only of this that the subject is conscious, and 



Happiness. 73, 

these health reports, as they may be styled, are gratefully re- 
ceived and conduce to a general sense of well-being. Content- 
ment pure and simple, as distinguished from happiness, would 
represent the condition of a healthy body in the absence of 
this intercourse between the great ganglionic centers and the 
brain. 

The_second condition to happiness to be noted is^ freedom,. 
more or less complete, from pain. To some extent this condi- 
tion coincides with that of health. For even if we refer to ill- 
health the accidental external pains due to injury or local dis- 
eases, there still remains the most important class of emotional 
pains grief, disappointment, worriment, fear, regret, remorse, ( 
anxiety, etc., etc. In fact, this list of woes lies only just 
outside the boundaries of that vast ocean of prurient pains de- 
scribed in Chap. IX under the general name of desires. If any 
of these remain permanently unsatisfied, happiness is well nigh 
impossible. 

This forms the natural transition to the third and last conHi- 
tjon to happinessj:hat need be specially insisted upon, viz., the 
means of satisfying desire_. This is by far the most important 
of all conditions, because health and freedom from pain are the 
normal states and their opposites belong to pathology. Their 
occurrence to a greater or less extent is unavoidable, and we 
have only nature to blame. This third condition, on the con- 
trary, is, in any state that man has yet attained, comparatively 
rare, whereas inability to satisfy desire is the almost universal/ 
estate of man, and moreover, it is only to a limited extent the/ 
fault of nature, and is in the main the fault of social surround-/ 
ings. 

But this needs many qualifications. If only the desires to 
eat, drink and reproduce were considered, it would indeed be 
untrue that the means to them were generally wanting. From i 
vast numbers even these are more or less withheld, but such j 
must perish, therefore those that live must possess these pri-i 
mary means of satisfying want. But such satisfactions consti- 



74 Subjective Factors. 

tute the lowest grade of happiness, and if the term were not 
here used in a broad generic sense they would be excluded en- 
tirely. Happiness in the popular restricted sense is the experi- 
encing of the higher emotional pleasures afforded by the 
gratification of social, esthetic, moral, and intellectual tastes. 
It is the means of doing this that render a person, a community, 
or a nation happy. And these are constantly arising. New 
wants of the spiritual nature come thick and fast upon one an- 
other as soon as the coarser necessities of existence are fully 
supplied. It is really true, as the pessimists claim, that there 
is no possibility of satisfying all desires, for if they could all be 
once conceived to be satisfied new ones would immediately 
arise demanding satisfaction. Yet the degree of happiness de- 
pends upon the relative proportion of them that can be silenced, 
and upon the nature and refinement of the tastes that can be 
gratified. Therefore, provided the means of supplying wants 
can be secured, the greater the number and the higher the 
rank of such wants, the higher the state of happiness attaina- 
ble. The problem of social science is to point out in what way 
the most complete and universal satisfaction of human desires 
can be attained, and this is one with the problem of greatest 
happiness. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

FEELING, FUNCTION, AND ACTION. 

The two functions absolutely essential to life are nutrition and reproduc- 
tion. To these correspond in all sentient beings two classes of desires. 
These may be denominated the gustatory and the sexual appetites. By the 
former, the sustenance necessary for replenishing the tissues is attracted to 
its proper place in the system; by the latter, the reproductive act is rendered 
agreeable, without which it would not be performed. 

Against these objects of nature may be set the corresponding objects of 
the organism, or, confining ourselves to the human race, they may be called 
the objects of man. The end of nature is the preservation and perpetuation 
of life; that of man is the satisfaction of desire. Dynamic Sociology, I, 
468-469. 

The satisfaction of desire taken in its broadest sense involves 
three wholly distinct things, feeling, function, and action. The 
first of these has been already considered at length, and needs 
only to be set down in its proper place in relation to the other 
two. As the condition to the existence of plastic organisms, 
its sanction is of the highest order, but from the standpoint of 
nature it is, as the formula implies, simply a means, and has 
no value in itself. The end to which it is the means is, from 
this standpoint, function. 

In what has been aptly and appropriately called " evolutionary 
teleology" 1 the broadest conception that can be formed of the 
true object or end of organic life is that of transforming inor- 
ganic into organic matter. Many have conceived this ultimate 
end to be perfection of structure, but when closely studied it 
becomes apparent that perfection of structure is only one of 
the means to that end. Wherever it occurs it actually accom- 
plishes this purpose, and wherever this purpose can be better 
accomplished in other ways it is not resorted to. Others have 
supposed that the great purpose of organic life was evolution, 

1 Asa Gray, Darwiniana, New York, 1877, Chap. XIII. 



j6 Subjective Factors. 

that is, the production of an ascending series of higher and 
higher types; but it is too well known that the actual series is 
not always ascending, and that wherever survival and multipli- 
cation can better be secured through degeneracy that takes 
place. If evolution is seen to have been the prevailing con- 
dition it is because the great end of increasing the quantity of 
organized matter is better subserved thereby than by any other 
means. This is exemplified in the higher types of both plants 
and animals. Even man, although far from the largest of 
animals, sustains this law, since by the possession of that most 
highly organized of all substances, the sapient brain, he is able 
to multiply his numbers and expand his faunal area far beyond 
the limit allotted to any other creature, and the combined mass 
of organized matter in the bodies of all the individuals of the 
human species would greatly exceed that of any other one 
species of animal on the globe. 

The application of all this to the subject in hand lies in 
the fact that in the animal world this end is secured through 
performance of those functions which are the necessary con- 
sequences of the satisfaction of desire. Feeling impels to 
function, and function secures protection, nutrition, growth, 
preservation, reproduction, multiplication, and perpetuation. 

Feeling and function are distinct things. They have no 
physiological relation to each other. The gustatory anc? nutri- 
tive organs are in different parts of the body. The seat of 
sexual appetite is remote from that of gestation. It is not death 
and the extinction of the species that prompts to flight from dan- 
ger, but only fear of pain. And yet the satisfaction of the desire 
to eat results in the preservation of the individual from starva- 
tion, the gratification of the sexual instinct results in the contin- 
uance of the species, and the escape by flight or other mode 
of action from the pain that enemies would inflict, results in 
safety to life. The two are essentially unlike and it is only by 
a sort of preestablished harmony that they are so adjusted as 
to become in fact cause and effect. But this harmony is really 



Feeling, Function, and Action. 77 

not preestablished, it is simultaneously established through the 
laws of selection and survival, and in this respect does not 
differ from a multitude of harmonies now familiar to naturalists 
under the name of adaptations. 

At the beginning of Chap. XI it was said that the satisfaction 
of a desire left the subject in the same condition psychologi- 
cally as before the desire arose. The word psychologically was 
used advisedly. In many cases it does not leave the subject in 
the same condition physiologically. This is because it results 
in function. The satisfaction of the desire to eat supplies the 
nutrient material, fills the stomach, sets the organs of digestion 
and assimilation to work, enriches the circulation, and may 
make a lean animal fat or a weak one strong. The reproduc- 
tive desire passes into function only in the female, but in her it 
works a great and wonderful series of changes, resulting in new 
beings of the race to which the parents belong. The function 
of pain is simply protection ; i.e., it is negative, and although 
no physiological change is wrought by its escape, the change 
which would have been wrought had it not been escaped is pre- 
vented. When it comes to the higher emotional desires and 
their satisfaction the function is more obscure, but that it often 
exists there can be no doubt. Here it takes the form of the 
growth, strengthening, or development of the physiological cen- 
ters, the general increase, expansion, and refinement of the 
capacity to enjoy. The law of improvement through use, so 
well attested in all other psychological processes, holds equally 
in the more subtile processes of the inner being, and the esthe- 
tic tastes, moral sensibilities, intellectual pleasures, and social 
attributes are, as all know, capable of cultivation and elevation 
as well as of intensification and multiplication. And through 
all this the great end of organic life is attained, since, as already 
remarked, structural perfection renders higher organization 
possible and insures survival and increase in the general sum of 
materials that have been withdrawn from the inorganic, and 
permanently added to the organic world. 



78 Subjective Factors. 

All this would be irrelevant to the present work if it were 
not so intimately connected with another view of the subject. 
Too great stress cannot be laid on the fact \^\. function is the 

^object of nature, in order to bring it into sharp contrast with 
another somewhat new and startling fact, yet not less a fact, 

<&&& feeling is the object of the sentient being. Still using the 
language of evolutionary teleology, it may be truly said that 
Nature never intended this to be so. Nature looks upon feeling 
simply as a means to function. She is utterly indifferent to 
both pleasure and pain. This is seen in the animal world where 
one half devour the other half and cruelty and torture are 
heartlessly practised. It is seen in the human race, half of 
which is so sunk in hopeless misery that they ceaselessly pray 
for utter annihilation, and even in the other half there flourishes 
a philosophy which teaches that to live is to suffer (leben ist 
leiden) and finds no loftier theme than the misery of existence 
(Elend des Daseins). 

But in creating pleasure by which to compass her ends 
Nature, as it were, o'erreached herself. By this act there was 
brought forth at once the despair and the hope of the world. 
Designed as a means it at length became an end, and during 
the last half of the earth's history there has gone on a struggle 
between Nature and Life for the attainment of their respective 
ends. Wherever these proved incompatible the end of Life 
must fail or Life must cease, but in a great number and variety 
of cases compromise was possible, and the most remarkable 
consequences ensued. Passing over for the present the sub- 
human phases of the subject which can be better treated a 
little later, we come to the human stage, and here we find much 
more clearly defined than ever before this great antithesis be- 
tween the object of Nature and the object of man. The careful 
student of man and of human history easily reaches the general- 
ization that the great drama of human life, like the little drama 
of each individual life, has~ for its sole theme the satisfaction of 
desire. The dramatis persona are all seeking to attain some 



Feeling, Function, and Action. 79 

end, to carry some point, to further some scheme, to accomplish 
some purpose, to gratify some ambition, to realize some aspira- 
tion. Or else they are seeking to escape some impending evil, 
to thwart some vile plot, to defeat some nefarious scheme. 
There is no end of purposes, some good, some bad, some high, 
some low, but there is always a purpose. And from the narrow 
standpoint of self these purposes are all good ; that is, they are 
good for the agent, or, at least, are believed to be so. But this 
is nothing more than to say that in accomplishing them the 
agent expects to secure some benefit or escape some injury, 
i.e., to attain pleasure or avoid pain, or at least, in the ultimate 
analysis, to realize a balance of pleasure or happiness over pain 
or misery. For the sake of brevity, then, this one universal 
end of human action and sole object of man may be said to be 
happiness. The conclusion is thus finally reached that the 
object of Nature is function while the object of man is happiness. 

The above will serve as a preparation for considering the 
third something involved in the satisfaction of desire, which, 
for want of a better term, has been called action. Totally 
distinct in its nature from both feeling and function, it never- 
theless invariably accompanies these and mediates between 
them as the direct consequence of the former, and the necessary 
condition to the latter. In itself, and except as such con- 
sequence and condition, it is utterly useless both to Nature and 
to the organism. To the former it is simply a mechanical 
means, to the latter it is a costly burden. Of what use then is 
it ? What intrinsic value has it ? To what is it in and for 
itself an end ? 

To the answer to these important questions a separate 
chapter must be devoted, but their full consideration may be 
anticipated in so far as to premise that for the subhuman 
world of life, if utility can be predicated of this soul-activity at 
all, the only beneficiary that can be conceived of is organic 
progress or evolution. In the human stage, however, this 
beneficiary assumes a more concrete form and may, with- 



8o Subjective Factors. 

out any forced interpretation and in a true and literal sense, be 
called Society. 

The threefold truth therefore to which the foregoing con- 
siderations growing out of subjective psychology in general and 
the philosophy of desire in particular have led, is, if we do not 
descend to the subhuman stage of existence, that : 

1. The object of Nature is Function. Ill $ 

2. The object of Man is Happiness. / /jW / -2 9. ., / 

3. The object of Society is Action. (Jv 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THE TRANSFORMING AGENCY. 



social forcesjin the sense in which they have been here spoken of, 
are those influerT^es^which impel man to action. They are qualities residing 
in men which determineartd-^ontrol their physical activities. They have 
their seat in the nervous system, anth-are what inclines the body and limbs to 
move in any particular manner, ^e call them desire^ They are the moni- 
tors which prompt us as to the demands of the system, and propel us toward 
the object demanded. Now it is human activity which has exerted the great 
influence upon society that has resulted in making it what it is. It is action 
which has worked out human civilization. Dynamic Sociology, I, 663. 

This new force, manifesting itself in at least three prominent ways at 
almost the same time in the earth's history, and producing such astonishing 
revolutions, was the psychic force beginning to respond to a long process of 
cephalization, or brain-enlargement, in the animal world. It represents the 
birth of the soul in nature ; it was the response to a demand for the satis- 
faction of wants, of instincts, of tastes ; it was the first expression of 
purpose and of will. For these are the attributes which led the bee to seek 
the nectar from the flower, the bird to visit the brilliant cluster of fruit, or 
the female of the higher creatures to choose the most beautiful male for its 
mate. And these are psychic qualities and represent the subjective half of 
of the world of mind the great heart of nature. Course of Biologic 
Evolution, p. 31. 

The profound modification accomplished by this agency [cross fertiliza- 
tion] was not confined to size, color, fragrance, and the secretion of nectar. 
The forms of flowers underwent in many cases a complete change, and an 
infinite number of wonderful irregularities appeared, varying from the 
slightest differences in the petals to the amazing abnormalities of the 
orchids, all calculated to adapt plants to the useful ministrations of insects, 
sometimes, as in the yucca, to those of a single species of insect, without 
which reproduction is impossible. Ibid., p. 25. 

In that branch of philosophy designated in Chap. I by the 
name of cosmology, the_most important law, notwithstanding 
the recent date of its full conception and acceptance, is that 
of evolution. In the organic world this law as frequently goes 



82 Subjective Factors. 

by the name of development. The history of organic develop- 
ment has been made the theme of a great number of the most 
important modern contributions to biology. To it, Darwin, 
the Newton of biology, devoted his life, producing a distinct 
epoch in that science and a revolution in human thought. His 
eminent contemporaries in all the advanced nations of the world, 
especially in England, Germany, France, and America, have 
grandly seconded the great movement, until the literature of 
the subject has become voluminous and it is still rapidly accu- 
mulating. Every conceivable problem growing out of this 
fertile principle has been attacked, and one would suppose that 
there could remain no new point of view from which the general 
subject could be contemplated. Notwithstanding the intense 
activity so long manifested in this field, the thoroughness of its 
treatment at the most competent hands, and the wealth of sub- 
stantial contribution to the general subject of evolution 
and especially to the department of organic development, 
there is one phase which has been neglected the importance 
of which to the problem now in hand demands attention in 

is place. 

The agencies that have cooperated in the production of the 
higher types of life are divisible into two distinct classes. 
Those of the first of these classes may be called normal or 
legitimate, those of the second extra-normal or illegitimate 
agencies. Normal or legitimate agencies give rise to characters 
or modifications which are of obvious utility to the organism. 
Extra-normal or illegitimate ones result in changes which are 
only indirectly beneficial, or they may be of doubtful utility 
and even in the end injurious. Usually though apparently 
useless they prove ultimately of the highest value. It is the 
special characteristic of extra-normal influences to give a new 
direction to development, to create unexpected and otherwise 
impossible modifications, landing the organism upon an entirely 
new plane of existence and completely changing the future 
course of development. 



The Transforming Agency. 83 

Looking more closely into the subject, it is perceived that all 
progress below the stage at which, in the sentient world, the 
nervous system begins to call forth marked activities in the 
direction of satisfying distinctly felt wants is the result of 
normal causes. This, of course, permanently excludes the entire 
vegetable kingdom. It also relegates to this stage of organic 
history, the whole of the Primary or Paleozoic period of geology, 
and probably all but the latter portion of Mesozoic time. Fur- 
ther, it rules out of the domain of extra-normal development 
all the lower types of animals, but the line here is not drawn 
at the beginning or end of any of the great structural series. 
No other kind of structure has any weight in determining it 
except nerve-structure, but this necessarily determines it irre- 
spective of skeletal or any other type of structure. In fact, 
although it may be dimly perceived in some other creatures 
both lower and higher in the accepted scales of zoological class- 
ification, it first clearly manifests itself in insect life. (^TEen" 
comes out broadly into view in bird life, still more prominently 
in mammalian life, and most decidedly in human life. 

The reader will be quick to perceive that this extra-normal 
agency thus described corresponds in all respects with what 
> was defined in Chap. VIII as the Soul, and it remains to show 
that it is this that constitutes the great transforming agency in 
nature. Hitherto it had been chiefly the environment in inter- 
action with the mere vegetative processes of life that had 
brought about modifications of structure and determined evolu- 
tion. Now it is chiefly the organism acting in response to in- 
ternal promptings of definite kinds that forces change and 
causes transformation. The two classes of evolution, therefore, 
may be regarded as respectively objective and subjective, and 
subjective evolution is the first chapter in the science of sub- 
jective psychology. It begins with the birth of the soul in 
nature, the initial recognition of creature wants, the origin of 
desires, and the beginning of that great crusade whose achieve- 
ments are recorded in Chap. IX. 




84 Subjective Factors. 

The influence of the transforming agency was sometimes 
felt upon the environment, sometimes on the organism, but 
whatever it touched yielded to its power and became molded 
into harmony with the ends of the agent. These ends were 
always the satisfaction of desires. The immediate means was 
action in the sense defined in the last chapter, and in this sense 
action constitutes the transforming agency itself, and subjective 
evolution is the product of the combined workings of this 
agency along a number of very different lines. It will be 
profitable to pause and consider for a moment a few of the most 
striking and characteristic of these transformations in the sub- 
human stage before rising to the important consideration of 
the relations which the subject sustains to man and society. 

Among the most remarkable, and at the same time primitive 
and characteristic phenomena of this class is the influence of 
the insect world upon the plant world, Down to the close of 
Jurassic time the vegetation of the globe consisted exclusively, 
so far as now known, of cryptogamic and gymnospermous 
plants, i.e., of plants whose reproductive organs were incon- 
spicuous and had no other attribute than that of performing 
the normal function of such organs. This was accomplished 
either by some kind of close fertilization, or if the sexes were 
separate, by the wind or water or some other mechanical and 
more or less accidental agency, and usually was only made cer- 
tain by the production of a vast quantity of spores or pollen- 
grains adapted to easy transportation. It is known that during 
the Cretaceous epoch the class of plants which now bear true, 
often showy and fragrant flowers, was introduced, although no 
remains of the flowers themselves have as yet been discovered 
at this early date. 1 Toward the close of this same epoch and 
especially during early Tertiary time, it is also known that in- 
sects resembling the present Hymenoptera, Coleoptera, and 

1 Dr. J. S. Newberry in February, 1886 (Trans. N. Y. Acad. Sci., vol. V., p. 137), 
announced the discovery of the flowers of a helianthoid plant in the Amboy 
Clays (Lower Cretaceous) of New Jersey, for which one month later (Bull. Torr. 
Bot. Club, vol. XIII., March, 1886, p. 37) he proposed the name Palaanthus. 




Transforming Agency. 85 

Lepidoptera made their appearance. So it is now known that 
the sole purpose) of showy and fragrant flowers is to attract in- 
sects and secure cross fertilization. It seems to be a legitimate 
scientific deduction that these were entirely due to the agency 
of insects and developed pari passu-with the higher types of 
these latter during the close of Secondary and beginning of 
Tertiary time. Only the botanist can fully estimate the sweep- 
ing character of this great transformation wrought by the spirit 
of life passing into mind, embodied in these humble creatures, 
and moving over the face of nature. 

A similar epoch was inaugurated a little later when bird life 
began to react upon its vegetable surroundings. Hitherto, 
though showy and fragrant flowers may have been borne on 
herbs, shr-ubs, and trees which insects had created, all fruits < 

may be supposed to have consisted of dry capsules or other N^ 

vessels containing chaffy innutritious seeds. But bird mind! $ ^ 
Cproved capable of transforming these into pulpy berries oTj \r 
?drupes, or nutritious grains stored with life-giving albumen J if & 

fruit-trees with their showy and luscious pomes and drupes 
were the result, while the grasses came into existence yielding 
the bread-products of the world. 

I never accepted this determination on account of the now well-established fact 
that the Gamopetalae were of late development and the Composite probably the 
most modern order of plants. But not having seen the specimens and no figures 
having been published, I have thus far refrained from any expression of opinion on 
the subject. Now, however, that I have recently had an opportunity to examine 
both the specimens and Dr. Newberry's drawings of them I do not hesitate to say 
that his claim is not sustained by the facts. The forms are probably related to 
those obtained from the Potomac formation on the James river at the Dutch Gap 
Canal by Prof. Wm. M. Fontaine and myself, which Prof. Fontaine refers to 
Williamsonia, usually regarded as belonging to the Cycadaceae. 

This paragraph was written in February, 1892, and may be allowed to stand 
but early in April collections of fosil plants were made by Dr. Eugene Smith, 
State Geologist of Alabama, and myself from two very favorable localities in that 
state belonging to the Tuscaloosa formation, which is of nearly the same age as 
the Amboy Clays of New Jersey, and in the material from both these localities I 
have found objects which closely resemble flowers of three different kinds. In 
two of these cases either sepals or petals seem to be represented, but of course it 
is impossible to say whether they were colored to attract insects or not. 




86 Subjective Factors. 

There is reason to believe that while mammalian life con- 
tributed somewhat to the results last noted it performed the 
further service of accelerating and directing, if not of initiating 
the development of nut-bearing trees, in which, however, bird 
life may have cooperated. And all this is not mere fanciful 
speculation, but is based on what is actually known of the 
interrelations of animal and plant life. Only the special details 
are not claimed to be exact, but it is probable that if the whole 
truth could be known it would be far more wonderful than the 
imagination of the naturalist is likely to depict it, checked by 
the caution which all scientific study inspires. It is practically 

. t * certain that but for this psychic agency in the animal world 

/o o r ' : ' - g J 

the vegetation of the earth would not only have been very 

different from what it is, but would have lacked so much of 
what now contributes to the sustenance and enjoyment of man 
as to render the globe scarcely habitable for him. 

Let us next consider one of the more important of those 
transformations which have affected the animal organism. In 

ffhe lowest forms of life reproduction is asexual. The dif- 
ferentiation of the two sexes was a normal process of evolution 
and early took place. At first reproduction scarcely differed 

Jfrom nutrition, of which even in the highest it may always be 
regarded theoretically as one of the modes. But the earliest 

/forms of distinct bisexuality consisted of a fertile individual 
supplemented by an accessory fertilizing agent or adjunct, 
which latter had no importance or use except to serve in this 
one capacity of dualizing or crossing the germ to prevent its 
vitality from becoming exhausted. 1 Although this in most 

i cases relatively diminutive, and, except for this one purpose, 

Wholly insignificant organism might with propriety be called 
the male, and the other primary and only real substance of the 
race or species might be called the female, still it is clear that 
the latter constituted the main trunk, and for all other than the 

1 Or, as Weismann would say, to insure variation through which alone natural 
selection can act. 



The Transforming Agency. 87 

one purpose mentioned, really was the organism. As further 
enforcing this truth, many cases exist in which the services of 
the fertilizer are only occasionally necessary and the main 
organism is capable of reproduction without its aid, at least up 
to a certain point. It is therefore obvious that from Nature's"^ 



^standpoint the female is the organism and the male only a 2 
V^ometimes useful, sometimes necessary adjunct or incident^ 
With further development a nearer approach to equality be- 
tween the two sexes was attained, but in nearly all invertebrate 
life and in a considerable part, especially the lower forms of 
vertebrate life, the superiority of the female is manifest. In 
many even of the higher insects the male is of little importance 
except as a fertilizing agent, often short-lived and without 
organs of nutrition in the imago state. In spiders we have the 
now familiar fact that the male is often exceedingly diminutive 
and is sometimes made the prey of the female while paying his 
court. In the mosquito the world knows nothing of him, and 
when seen he is not supposed to belong to the same type of 
insects. In bees he is the drone and has only the fertilizing 
function to perform. In many fishes there is a great disparity 
in size between the sexes, and even in some birds, as the hawks, 
the female is larger than the male. 

From all this and much more that might easily be adduced it 
appears evident that from the standpoint of nature, and accord- 
ing to the normal processes of evolution, the female is the 
principal sex and constitutes the main trunk of development. 
she alone continuing the race, except that in the higher forms 
she usually requires the aid of a fresh element derived from the 
male to cross the stock and renew the vitality of the offspring. 
But for the intervention of some extra-normal influence, there- 
fore, female superiority would have been found to be universal 
in the animal kingdom. The fact that in most birds and mam- 
mals the opposite is the case becomes an anomaly and requires 
explanation. This explanation is found in the law we are here 
seeking to illustrate. We perceive that, as in the cases of 



88 Subjective Factors. 

extra-normal development already considered, this phenomenon 
began to manifest itself in early Tertiary time, the precise 
period when the soul-force began to react upon the vegetable 
world. Though a very dissimilar phenomenon in itself it never- 
theless is seen to have a very similar cause. The former move- 
ment was due to the development of those faculties which aid 
in securing supplies of nutriment to sustain life, in the height- 
ened powers of scent, taste, and vision ; in the new-born pleas- 
ure derived from nectar, fragrance, and even from beauty ; in 
a word, it came with the dawn of the esthetic faculty, its first 
appearance in the world, and yet scarcely different from what 
we find it in man, who, before he learned the new truth (and 
how far has he learned it ?) was so vain as to claim that the 
beautiful and fragrant flowers, the delicious fruits, and the 
nutritious grains were created for him ! The phenomenon now 
under consideration was also the result of the growing esthetic 
faculty. It had nothing to do with the coarser reproductive 
instinct, but was the product of a sharpened sense of beauty, 
a romantic choice of partners by the females of the higher 
types of animal life. These heartless coquettes condemned to 
perpetual celibacy the meaner and uglier suitors for their 
charms, and only admitted to the privilege of parenthood those 
which by superior prowess, physical beauty, size, or other 
attracting qualities, were able to win their title to it. Heredity 
did the rest, and the product is the proof that this was the 
method, and it enables us to form a definite conception of the 
exact nature of those esthetic sentiments that prompted these 
selections. Again we find that they were practically identical 
with the higher tastes of man, since he regards the beautiful 
feathers of birds and the branching antlers of the deer and elk 
as among the most pleasing objects that can appeal to the eye. 
There is much reason for regarding the faculty of cunning as 
one of those passports to female favor of which we have been 
speaking. While it may not have been so manifest among birds 
and among those mammals of which mention has been made, it 



The Transforming Agency. 89 

may have constituted a leading factor in the life of the ancestors 
of man during their presocial and prehuman period. We know 
that nothing more readily captivates the human female than the 
display of brilliant mental qualities, and it is easy to conceive 
that the female Anthropus of the African or Lemurian forest 
may have been more attracted by male sagacity and success in 
circumventing rivals than in any other quality. If this be so it 
explains many difficulties in the path of the student of man. 
It explains especially the relatively small brain of woman 
and places the large brain of man on the list of secondary 
sexual characters. Many of these are known to be partially 
developed in both sexes, and thus may be understood the fact 
that man has become a being with enormously developed 
cerebral hemispheres. 

There is one aspect of this question which possesses especial 
interest. It was shown in Chap. X that the intellect as com^ 
pared with the soul is of recent date, not seeming to havej 
appeared until late in Tertiary or even in Quaternary time. 
If the above hypothesis could be sustained it would furnish a 
remarkable confirmation of Schopenhauer's claim that it is a 
mere " accident." Not only is it a newcomer, branching off in 
modern times from the time-honored psychic trunk represented 
by the feelings, but it is an accident in the sense that it was 
produced by what have here been called extra-normal or illegiti- 
mate agencies in evolution, so that had Schopenhauer been 
acquainted with the laws and course of evolution he would 
doubtless have branded it as the bastard product of unholy 
alliances. Let us rather regard it as a natural child, not 
responsible for its origin, and, as among human beings, all the 
more likely to display high qualities and possess sterling worth. 

Having glanced at the results accomplished in the subhuman 
stage by the transforming agency which is the universal con- 
comitant of desire seeking satisfaction, we would naturally rise 
next into the field of human and social life and note its workings 
there, but although it will be necessary for the sake of com- 



90 Subjective Factors. 

pleteness to furnish grounds for the assertion that it is here 
that this law may be seen in its fullest operation, still, for many 
reasons it will be advantageous to postpone the full discussion 
of this subject until the second part of the work is entered upon 
when all the preparatory considerations will have been disposed 
of. It will, therefore, for the present suffice to remark that 
nearly all the activities, and especially the substantial achieve- 
ments of man fall under this head. The great variety and 
intensity of human desires, all finding expression in those 
actions which are intended to secure their satisfaction, has, 
thus incidentally but with marvellous effect, wrought changes 
in man's environment far greater than those produced by the 
animal inhabitants and greater than it would be possible for 
any irrational creature to effect. 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE DYNAMICS OF MIND. 

The relation which the mind-force bears to these sense-forces is similar to 
that which the rudder operated by the pilot bears to the sails operated by 
the wind. Desire uninfluenced by intelligence is a true natural force and 
obeys the universal law of dynamics. Bodies acted upon by a normal force 
always tend to move in straight lines either from the impelling or toward 
the attracting body. If they move in curves or irregular lines, it is because 
a plurality of forces, having different directions, are operating upon them. 
It is precisely so with organisms impelled by desires only. They move as 
directly toward the objects of desire as do the objects of magnetic attraction 
toward the attracting magnets, or falling bodies toward the earth's center. 
Dynamic Sociology, I, 486487. 

The pressure of hunger is an actual force a sensation implying some 
state of nervous tension ; and the muscular action which the sensation 
prompts is really a discharge of it in the shape of bodily motion a dis- 
charge which, on analyzing the mental acts involved, will be found to follow 
lines of least resistance. Hence the motions of a society whose members 
are impelled by this or any other desire, are actually, and not metaphoric- 
ally, to be understood in the manner shown. HERBERT SPENCER : First 
Principles, p. 244. 

All the sciences of the hierarchy deal with forces. Whether 
it be called gravitation, as in astronomy and barology, or heat, 
light, electricity, magnetism, etc., as in those branches of 
physics, or elective affinity, as in chemistry, or the vital force, 
as in biology, there is in all cases a dynamic agent determining 
the phenomena of every subdivision of knowledge which is 
entitled to be called a science. 

The sterility of the old psychology, so long known as meta- 
physics, was due to the fact that it was without any such 
dynamic agent. As such it was essentially lifeless. It dealt 
exclusively with the intellect, and, as will be shown in Part II, 
the intellect is in no proper sense a force. Metaphysics pos- 



92 Subjective Factors. 

sessed no animating property, no vitalizing or vivifying princi- 
ple. It therefore soon degenerated into platitude and inanity. 
For centuries it consisted in the threshing of old straw, pul- 
verizing it, until it choked itself with the very dust that arose 
from beneath its flail. 

Mind only becomes a science when grasped in its entirety. 
The dynamic agent- resides in the feelings. The mind-force is 
the soul. The psychic power inheres in the emotions. The 
propelling energy of the world is the "Will " of Schopenhauer. 
The active principle of sentient nature is desire. In the 
language of romance and of popular speech the emotional side 
of life is called the heart. Some physiologists have been dis- 
posed to attribute this to ignorance, but there is a sense in 
which it is more than half true, even from the standpoint of 
physiology. It is not supposed to refer to blood-currents, but 
to nerve-currents, and if there is any nerve center that is en- 
titled to be called the seat of the emotions it is the great cardiac 
plexus of the sympathetic system, and the strongest emotions 
can be definitely located in that region of the body. But there 
is another point of view from which popular language can be 
defended, always remembering that we are not dealing with 
literal facts, but with analogies. The physiological heart is,, 
more than any other organ, the engine of the living body, the 
force-pump of the life-current, and the seat of vital power. 
Behind it and impelling it is the system of nerve fibers, 
plexuses, and ganglia storing and transmitting the nerve-cur- 
rents that constitute the power itself. But it is this same 
power, only ramifying throughout the system and controlling 
every organ of the body, that impels, by its rhythmic pulsa- 
tions, every bodily movement and every act of life, the con- 
scious and rational actions, as well as the involuntary and 
vegetative functions. And it is not, therefore, a mere figure 
of speech, but in a certain correct sense the expression of a 
scientific tnith. to^caHpne teelings,^ they are here treated, the 
great heart of nature, in contrast with the rational faculties^ 



The Dynamics of Mind. 93 

which constitute the head of nature. Both together form the 
subject of a true science dominated, like all other true sciences, 
by its peculiar form of the universal force, and therefore capa- 
ble, like other sciences, of exact treatment, and of yielding 
with such treatment beneficial results. Feeling is the basis of 
a philosophy of action, and whether yJwea from the standpoint 
of achievement and progress or fperm the standpoint of ethics 
and happiness, it constitiitesihe only real foundation for a 
science of minrl Subjective psychology puts a heart and soul 
into philosophy, gives it life and meaning, makes it practical 
and utilitarian, furnishing a key alike to past history and to 
future progress. 

Thus viewed it can be seen what an important fact feeling is 
in the world and how worthy it is of all attention and honor. 
That maudlin sentimentality that would banish it from phi- 
losophy as unworthy a place by the side of its great grand- 
child, the intellect, must be overcome if psychology is to 
become a science, and the equal dignity and nobility of the 
emotions, nay, even of what it pleases us to call the baser 
passions, must be recognized and their true position in the 
scheme of philosophy assigned them. When this is done not 
only will much that is regarded as bad be seen to be good, but 
much that is false in the habitual mode of reasoning will yield 
its place to true conceptions of nature and life. 

As a single illustration coming under this last head may be 
taken the popular estimate of the worth of woman. Because 
she does not possess the power of abstract reasoning to the 
same degree as man, his attitude toward her, however it may be 
expressed, and often most clear when unexpressed, is that she 
possesses little relative importance in the world beyond her 
function of continuing the race. While she could reply that 
there was a period in his phylogenetic history, when, as shown 
in the last chapter, he was literally of no use except for that 
function, and perhaps not necessary even for that, and when 
she was in very truth the race itself, she can also with even 





94 Subjective Factors. 

greater effect reply that her emotional nature, in which he 
concedes her superiority, is not only far older in the history of 
development, but far grander in its essential nature and more 
useful in the economy of man and society, than his modern 
faculty of speculation. Whatever she may have lost by the 
action of those illegitimate agencies which have been described, 
she has not lost that greatest of all possessions, her heart, 
which still beats with undiminished force and regularity in 
unison with the pulsations of the great heart of nature of which 
it is a part. 

The central and all-important truth toward which all that has 
been said thus far in this work has tended, is that desire is a 
true natural force. There is not the least, figurativeness, 
metaphor, or analogy in this formula. It is the expression of 
a literal truth. The psychic force conforms to all the estab- 
lished criteria of the nature of a force and is capable of an un- 
limited number and variety of concrete illustrations. It obeys 
the Newtonian laws of motion. An animal body like a physical 
body, acted upon by a single force will move in a straight line 
in the direction in which that force acts. If acted upon by 
two forces that are equal and opposite, a condition no rarer 
in the animal than in the physical world, it will remain sta- 
tionary. If the two forces be neither equal nor opposite, it will 
move on the line of the resultant of the two. But as in the 
animal the forces are always continuous, the effect is commonly 
that of constrained motion and the corresponding curve is 
described. t 

Of all the known forms of force or modes of motion, that of 
magnetism is the one to which the psychic force approaches 
most nearly. This has long been perceived. The most typical 
of all the desires is love, and in the French language the 
present participle of the verb to love is the word for magnet. 
There is however an important apparent difference. Whereas 
the magnet seems to attract the object, in desire it is the object 
that attracts the subject. But in reality the attractions of the 



The Dynamics of Mind. 95 

magnet and the object are strictly mutual, as in gravitation of 
which magnetism seems to be a special form, and in the 
magnetic properties of objects there are all degrees. The 
psychic force may also be likened to electricity. The animal 
body may be regarded as a battery which it is the function of 
life to keep constantly charged. The attachment is to the 
muscles, and locomotion is analogous to that of an electric 
car. Again, the nervous system is analogous to a telegraphic 
or telephonic system, the fibers representing the wires. But it 
is not in these analogies that the proof of the dynamic character 
of the subjective phenomena lies. It is in the nature of the 
phenomena themselves and the results produced. These, as 
has been shown and as will be more fully shown in future 
chapters, are indistinguishable from other natural phenomena 
under the operation of recognized forces. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

SOCIAL ACTION. 

All objects on the surface of the earth, though supposed to consist of 
multitudes of molecules which are moving among themselves, and though 
known to be undergoing secular changes, and destined to manifest, sooner 
or later, wholly different forms without human agency, may nevertheless, so 
far as man's daily dealings with them are concerned, be regarded as in a 
state of repose or inertia. The forces of gravitation and chemical reaction 
have reduced them to a state of equilibrium. Though differing immensely 
in properties, in form, size, consistency, etc., they are most of them in so 
far tangible that they allow their relations to be changed at the hands of 
man. In short, they neither escape him, nor resist him, nor refuse to be 
subdivided, modified in form, or transported in space. Before the active 
efforts of man the materials of nature are wholly passive. The condition 
which they have naturally assumed is the statical one. The free forces of 
nature have already played upon them in antecedent dynamic states until they 
have at last been reduced to their present state. This is the one in which 
they are capable of producing the least effects upon surrounding objects. 
While their matter has been integrated their motion has been dissipated, 
until the matter and force of the universe at least, of the part of it which 
man occupies have, as it were, become separated or divorced, and exist 
and manifest themselves independently such is the apparent, and, so far 
as human action is concerned, the practical condition. 

Now, it would be reasonable to suppose that, since natural objects have 
been constantly borne down until they have been brought to assume the 
greatest degree of stability of which they are capable in the existing condi- 
tion of the universe, any attempt to disturb that condition would remove 
them more or less from that stable state and render them less inert and less 
indifferent to the influences of the free forces still playing upon them. Such 
is, in fact, the case, and it is an indisputable truth that the great results 
achieved by man in operating upon the material objects of the earth have 
consisted in removing these objects from the still folds of material death 
in which he has found them, and so placing them that the surrounding 
influences which had consigned them to this state can again set up changes 
in them and, as it were, reanimate them. In scientific phrase, it is by the 
transfer of material objects from the statical to the dynamical state, from a 
condition of molar equilibrium to one of molar activity, that human civiliza- 
tion has been enabled to originate and to advance. Dynamic Sociology, II, 
379-380. 



Social Action. 97 

The history of man, if it should* ever be written, would be 
an account of what man has done. The numerous changes 
that have been made in the position of certain imaginary lines 
the earth's surface, called political boundaries, and the events 

/Jhat have given rise to such changes, would be recorded, but 
jnstead of making the bulk of human annals as they now do, 
they would occupy a very subordinate place. Such changes 
and their conditioning events are temporary, superficial, and 
unimportant. They leave no lasting impress and are soon 
swept by time completely from the real record of man's achieve- 
ments. The major part of a true history of man would be 
devoted to the reproduction of this real record. Although it is 

1 written on the face of nature by the events themselves, very 
much as the cosmical history of the earth is written in the 
rocks, still the history of man needs to be studied from these 

! natural records, interpreted by the facts there observed, and 
described in writing and by graphic representation as much as 
\ the history of the earth needs to be thus treated by the geolo- 
gist. Human phenomena, or, as they are popularly called, 
\ social phenomena, differ in these respects from geological and 
\ other phenomena only in the nature of tfte forces which pro- 
Seduce them. In these it is the psychic force_s, as described in 
the last chapter. Man is the instrument through which these 
* *x forces operate, and the immediate cause of the phenomena is 
human action. As man has been a social being during the 
greater part of his history, and as the principal results of his 
activities have been brought about by some form of social 
cooperation, it is customary and proper to designate such action 
as social action. The laws and principles of such action belong 
to social science, or sociology, and it thus becomes clear that 
sociology rests directly upon psychology, and especially upon 
subjective psychology. 



Subjective psychology is a philosophy of action. Looked at 
retrospectively and from the standpoint of natural history it is 
seen that all the changes that have taken place either in the 



98 Subjective Factors. 

organism or the environment have been due to the action of 
the former under the influence of the psychic or vital forces, 
and that from the time that conscious desires began to deter- 
mine action great transformations have taken place and are 
still going on. Not dwelling on the subhuman stage, it is 
obvious that man is the being that has most notably displayed 
this transforming power. An animal of rather inferior physical 
strength, endowed with few natural weapons of either offence 
or defence, lacking the powers of nocturnal vision, keen scent, 
fleetness in pursuit or escape, flight, or special skill in swim- 
ming, by which to aid him in migration, he has nevertheless 
almost completely changed the appearance and character of 
everything above ground over half the land surface of the 
earth and established himself supreme over all else in all the 
habitable parts of the globe. All this is commonly and prop- 
ferly attributed to mind, and it will be shown in Part II. in 
[ what special ways mind has produced these results. But the 
present point of view is that of insisting that the motive power 
of mind has been his multiplied and ever-increasing wants, to 
supply which perpetual effort has been put forth and ceaseless 
activity has taken place. This purposeful activity is the middle 
term of the threefold psychologic succession, mediating be- 
tween desire and feeling and the necessary condition to the 
satisfaction of the former in attaining the latter. Here more 
than anywhere else pleasure or happiness has been made an 
end, though only intended by nature as a means. But neither 
did the transformations wrought by man's activity constitute in 
any sense the purpose of that activity. The sum total of these 
transformations constitute what is meant by material civiliza- 
tion, but man never made civilization an end of his efforts. In 
so far as this has been a gain the sole beneficiary of that gain 
has been society, as shown in Chap. XIII. 

There are those who maintain that civilization can only be 
achieved through the action of the individual, unconscious of 
the end, doing that which will conduce to the end. The 




Social Action. 99 

present state of progress is adduced as proof that this 
is the necessary result. But while it is admitted that this 
has resulted in some parts of the world and in past history, 
it must be denied that the effect has been beneficial in 
all parts of the world or wholly so in any part, and also 
that any guaranty exists that it will continue indefinitely 
to be so, even where the actual benefits have been great- 
est. It can also be legitimately argued that much greater 
benefits might be secured if society were the conscious 
agent and had its improvement for its clearly per- 
ceived end. But this is an anticipation. This much needs 
however to be said, that in predicating action as the object of 
society the time has not yet come when it can be said to be 
conscious of its end. ( Society] has not yet begun to seek its 
end. It has not reached the stage of psychic development 
attained by the Cretaceous insect, the Eocene bird, the Mio 
cene mammal, or the Quaternary man, when conscious desire 
began to inspire activity in securing its satisfaction. The soul 
of society is not yet born. Yet none the less is society the 
beneficiary of the direct results of human action in so far as 
they are beneficial, albeit that action is directed solely toward 
the attainment of the object of the individual man, viz.,, 
happiness. 

It is the essence of the doctrine of individualism that what 
good for the individual must be good for society. This is 
based on the admitted fact that society exists only for the 
individual. Society is only an idea a Platonic idea, like 
species, genus, order, etc., in natural history. The only real 
thing is the individual. And it is argued : Why strive to 
benefit that which has no feeling and therefore is incapable of 
being benefited ? The argument is plausible. Only it proceeds 
from a misconception of what social reformers really mean 
when they talk of improving society. There are none so simple 
as literally to personify society and conceive it endowed wit 
wants and passions. By the improvement of society they only 




ioo Subjective Factors. 

mean such modifications in its constitution and structure as 
will in their opinion result in ameliorating the condition of its 
individual members. Therefore there is nothing illogical in 
their claim, and to answer them it must be shown in each case 
that the particular supposed reform that they are advocating 
will not as a matter of fact result in the alleged amelioration of 
the individual members of society. Arguments of this class are 
legitimate. 

It would also be legitimate to argue that no possible altera- 
tion in the existing status of society can produce beneficial 
effects as thus defined, but I am not aware that anyone has 
ever taken that position. It is too obvious on the most super- 
ficial view that the evils that individuals suffer are often due 
to the constitution of society which entails them. This results 
from the constant changes that are going on in every direction 
through the activities of individuals seeking their ends, and 
from time to time causing the needs of the mass to outgrow 
the restrictions which society under very different previous 
circumstances was obliged to impose. So that if a state of 
perfect adaptation of the individual to society could be at any 
given moment conceived to exist it would not remain so very 
long, and new internal transformations would soon again throw 
the individual units out of harmony with the social aggregate. 
It is this inertia of society and its inability to keep pace with 
the growth of the living mass within it that gives rise to social 
reformers who are legitimate and necessary, nay, natural pro- 
ducts of every country and age, and the ignoring of this fact 
by conservative writers who lay so great stress on the word 
natural, is one of the amusing absurdities of the present period. 1 

1 " Laissez faire is 'translated' into 'blunt English' as meaning 'mind your 
own business,' and this injunction he drives home to almost every one who has 
ever done anything except to write about 'what social classes owe to each other'; 
the salutary reservation of Sir Joseph Porter, ' except me', seeming to be con- 
stantly kept in mind. . . . 

" Again in his severe condemnation of the 'friends of humanity', as he sneeringly 
calls all who believe in the attainment through human effort of a higher social 



Social Action. ibi 

So long, therefore, as society remains the unconscious pro- 
duct of the individual demands of each age, so long will the 
organized social state continue to be found out of accord with 
and lagging behind the real spirit of the age, often so intolerably 
so as to require more or less violent convulsions and social 
revolutions. But if ever an ideal social organization shall come 
to be a clearly defined conscious individual want, it will be 
possible to establish one that will have elements of flexibility 
sufficient to render it more or less permanent. But here, as 
everywhere else under the dominion of the psychic forces, the 
end of the individual or object of man, happiness, or some 
improvement in his personal condition, must be put vividly 
before him as the loadstone of desire and motive to action. 

state, he seems to forget that these very troublesome persons are merely products 
of society and natiiral. To hear him, remembering his premises, one would sup- 
pose that these men either had invaded the world from some outer planet or had 
artificially created themselves. But they belong to society as much as the hated 
paupers and worthless invalids whom he would turn over to nature. Why then 
not let them alone ? Why meddle with the natural course of things ? In fact 
what is the raison d'etre of this earnest book that wants to have so much done? 
On his own theory, the author should let his deluded victims alone, should laisser 
faire we omit the ' translation.' " Review of Prof. W. G. Summer's book, 
entitled : What Social Classes Owe to Each Other. Man, Vol. IV ; New York, 
March i, 1884. 



CHAPTER XVII. 



SOCIAL FRICTION. 

Ethical principles are a growth of the social system. The members of 
society are literally bound by them, not by an ideal bond, but by positive 
constraint. The prevailing idea is, that any one might conduct himself im- 
morally if he preferred, and that pure principle is all that prevents the ma- 
jority of mankind from doing so. Such ideas legitimately follow from the 
^ free-will doctrine and other kindred errors that pervade the moral teaching 
-T '* which we all receive. The truth is, that men are compelled to conduct 
* ^ \f themselves according to the established standards of propriety. This is 
* the condition upon which society has been enabled to develop. The few 
who attempt to break over these restrictions quickly come to grief. They 
drop into the criminal classes, and find their way into the penitentiaries ; or 
they are stamped as monomaniacs, fanatics, "cranks," and rigidly guarded. 
They are driven from the centers of culture, and find for brief periods the 
means of continuing their licentious course on the expanding borders of 
civilization. Here they are known as "roughs" and " desperadoes," and 
flourish until compelled to succumb to the summary justice of " vigilance 
committees," which are merely the rude guardians of moral law in such 
communities. For there is really no hard-and-fast line which can be drawn 
tween criminality and the less heinous forms of immorality. But even 
the least deviation from the path of rectitude is, in developed social centers, 
a signal for ostracism, the withdrawal of esteem, systematic avoidance, and 
all the other forms of punishment which render life intolerable, and demon- 
strate the completely compulsory character of the ethical code. It is a code 
which enforces itself, and therefore requires no priesthood and no manual. 
And strangely enough, here, where alone laissez faire is sound doctrine, we 
find the laissez faire school calling loudly for "regulation." Dynamic 
Sociology, II, 372-373- 

The great object of action is to do something. Conduct only aims to 
avoid doing either to avoid interfering with the "pursuits of ends" by 
others, or to prevent others from pursuing such ends, or to do some benefit 
for another, whereby he is prevented from doing the necessary acts for ren- 
dering an equivalent, or to do him an injury whereby he is prevented, to 
that extent, from pursuing his natural ends. It is all through a negative 
proceeding, interfering at every point with the normal course of action. 
Conduct is a guidance of acts so as to prevent or to occasion conflicts in 
normal actions. Dynamic Sociology, II, 376-377. 





Social Friction. 103 

Moral conduct, instead of being, as usually represented, conduct in a right 
line, is in reality conduct in a very irregular line. The path of rectitude is 
a crooked path, and the distance lost in following it counts heavily against 
the progress of the world, yet less heavily than would the jars and collisions 
which a failure to follow it would inevitably produce. 

The remarkable fact to be noted is, that it is this class of human action, 
aiming simply to avoid such conflicts of interest, insignificant as it is in 
comparison with the main current of human action, that has been the sub- 
ject of all the ethical teaching and ethical writing which have flooded the 
world from the earliest historic periods. Dynamic Sociology, II, 377-378. 

From the sociological point of view, then, Ethics becomes nothing else 
than a definite account of the forms of conduct that are fitted to the associ- 
ated state, in such wise that the lives of each and all may be the greatest 
possible, alike in length and breadth. HERBERT SPENCER : Data of 
Ethics, p. 133. 

Our vices thus are virtues in disguise, 
Wicked but by degrees, or by surprise. 

POPE : Essay on Man, Epistle II. 

Thus spite of all the Frenchman's witty lies 
Most vices are but virtues in disguise. 

POPE : Ibid, (another version of the above). 

If any one were to write a book professing by its title to set 
forth the value of machinery and its usefulness to civilization, 
and were to confine himself exclusively to the subject of fric- 
tionj. pointing out in great detail the importance of reducing it 
to the minimum, describing the most effective kinds of journals, 
gudgeons, and bearings for this purpose, and treating ex- 
haustively the subject of lubricating oils, the case would be 
closely analogous to that which exists with respect to the treat- 
ment by all writers of human or social action. Unquestionably 
the most important subject that can engage the attention of 
the human mind, its laws, principles and methods, as well as its 
substantial results have been ignored and volumes by thousands 
have been written on the mere friction which it engenders, its 
interferences and conflicts and how they may be lessened. 
This insignificant field of investigation has been dignified by 



104 



Siibjective Factors. 



the high-sounding name of ethics, or sometimes even by the 
more grandiloquent one of " moral science." These voluminous 

'"reports of the Circumlocution Office upon " the art of perceiv- 
ing how not to do it " are of a piece with the traditional school- 
boy's composition on pins setting forth their usefulness in 
saving men's lives by their not swallowing them. 

That unthinking persons, theological wntefs, and authors of 
sentimental homilies should extol (moralsj and regard it as the 
chief end of life is not perhaps to be wondered at; but that 
philosophers of breadth and penetration should have so uniform- 
ly failed to assign it its proper and natural place in their sys- 
tems, will always remain one of the curiosities of the human 
mind. It would at least be supposed that where one of these 
latter was also a professed teacher of social science, and as 
such to have been forced to make the most careful study and 
analysis of all the different kinds of social action, he could not 
help seeing the subordinate rank and incidental character of 
those negative phenomena which alone belong to ethics. It is 
all the more surprising, therefore, to find Mr. Herbert Spencer 
making this subject to form the cap-sheaf and crown of his 
great system of synthetic philosophy, and speaking of that part 
of his system as the one to which he regards " all the preceding 
parts as subsidiary." 

^J While sociology deals with all human actions and, therefore, 
includes ethics, the latter deals only with the limited class of 
actions which are properly included under the word conduct, 
and which, as said above, constitute the conflicts that occur in 
normal action. They are not only unimportant from their 
limited scope, but from their essentially negative character. 
Their tendency, as in mechanical friction, is to impede, and to 
their full extent, to prevent the regular operations of society. 
They are therefore wholly non-progressive. Any one who from} 
moral considerations acts in any respect differently from what] 

<the psychic forces within him normally impel him to act, to that] 
"^extent lessens the effect of his action. Of course this is far 





Social Friction. 105 

from saying that it is not very frequently necessary and in all 
respects best to do this, it is merely to insist that there is 
nothing so wonderful and exalted about moral acts as is com- 
monly supposed, when viewed from the broadest philosophical 
standpoint. If one sees the question only from the standpoint 
of social progress, which consists in producing the maximum 
permanent improvements in man's niaterial surroundings, all 
hindrances to this consummation are bad, and those acts whicKj ^ 
'<_are morally good are in most instances socially bad. 1j 

It may be admitted that the subject of interferences among 
human actions and of their avoidance is a complex and diffi- 
cult one, nevertheless it has been so long and exhaustively 
studied that it seems impossible to add anything of value. All 
the great moral precepts are as old as human records. The^ 
"golden rule" of Christ was laid down independently by Hillel^ 
and Confucius and never practised by any one. Among the 
best maxims are those of the Brahmins, while Antoninus and 
the Stoics have furnished as pure and lofty conceptions of 
duty as any modern moral science writer could wish. Mr. 
Spencer laid claim to finding a " scientific basis" for ethics. 
One volume of his Principles of Ethics is now out and I am 
unable to see that he has sustained that claim if by " scientific 
basis " he means anything else than the old basis. What he 
says that is new is no part of ethics. The doctrine that 
pleasure is the good arid pain the bad, and that happiness is the 
end of action, while " scientific " is not ethical. It is a corol- 
lary dimly seen by Spinoza and others, growing out of the 
principle set forth in Chap. VII, which is a principle of 
psychology, or, one may say, of biology. And as to his 
"Justice " the subject does not belong to ethics, but to juris- 
prudence. As treated by him it is a partisan defence of ex- 
treme individualism, amounting to practical anarchism. 

However important moral conduct may be in itself, and 
there is no difference of opinion on this point, there are many 
reasons, in its overdone condition already referred to, why it 




Jb6 Subjective Factors. 



jf 



should not be made to absorb so large a share of the attention 
of thinking persons. The moral precepts observed at any 
time and in any country are the effect and not the cause of the 
moral condition of those who observe them. If there is any 
mutual interaction between ethical teaching and moral conduct 
by which each influences the other and tends to cause the ad- 
\rancc of both it is very slight. Certain it is that the former 
/ can be and frequently is pushed so far that the moral sense is 
yy more or less blunted and deadened by the iteration of moral 
y injunctions. It would probably be better for personal morality 

, , if ethics were only taught historically and philosophically. 

Another serious evil results from the erroneous belief that 
moral character can be improved by ethical teaching. Many 
persons, and especially teachers, habitually labor under such a 
load of responsibility for the moral character of those who come 
within the circle of their influence that they become paralyzed 
for usefulness in life. No one dares to say what he thinks. 
All originality is screened out of whatever is produced. Teach- 
ing, that noblest of all vocations, degenerates into pedantry. 
This has now reached such a stage that the utterances of pro- 
fessors in colleges have assumed a stereotyped form and the 
sagacious student knows in advance what is going to be said. 
Or, if any one of these should chance to say anything original, 
he feels obliged immediately to recant it, or to add a saving 
clause to the effect that he meant something else. And it is 
getting to be the practice in set papers, orations, and scholastic 
addresses in which the mind has been allowed some freedom to 
expand, to close with a " protest," as the Catholic writers call 
it, namely a disclaimer of everything that could be construed 
to be injurious to morals. Frequently, after stating an im- 
portant scientific truth, it is deemed necessary to explain to the 
reader, as the judge does to the jury, how much of it it will do 
to believe and what conclusions it will not do to draw from it. 
University lectures become infected with this true moral cow- 
ardice, until the lecture-room style can be recognized and 



Social Friction. 107 

readily distinguished from the independent exposition of the 
original investigator. The same difference is seen in the books 
produced by the two classes, in the cringing fear that animates 
the one, contrasted with the manly courage characterizing the 
other. 

Along with the dwarfing effect of this state of things, there 
goes the further demoralizing influence of egotism and conceit. 
For the idea of continually guarding the character of others^ 
begets an inordinate conception of personal importance, and/ 
this is always seen grotesquely mixing itself with pretendedA 
humility. A form of this sometimes takes possession even of 
truly great minds, and unless checked by wholesome influences 
from without they are apt to merge into a state in which they 
vastly overestimate the effect their labors are to produce. It 
was so with Auguste Comte, after long practising his " hygiene 
ce'rebrale" of reading nothing and conversing with no one, but 
evolving his system out of his inner consciousness, until he 
fancied himself the high priest of a new dispensation and even 
fixed the time for its universal acceptance. And do we not see 
some trace of this enlarged personality in Mr. Herbert Spencer^ 
when, in the preface to his Data of Ethics, he explains his haste 
to lay before the world his ethical system before any serious 
evils should result from its delay ? For it is in this connection 
that he says : " Few things can happen more disastrous than 
the decay and death of a regulative system no longer fit, before 
another and fitter regulative system has grown up to replace it." 
Under such a weight of responsibility he ought at least to be 
consoled by the view expressed in this chapter and to congrat- 
ulate himself that the morals of the world may still be safe 1 
even if he should not live to complete his Principles of Ethics. 

To all this may now be added the further law that the moral 
state is a product of social evolution and a condition to the ex- 
istence of society. The moraJLc^de only differs from the legal 
code in taking cognizance of cases that society will adjudicate 
without the aid of the courts. Society will not tolerate an in- 




io8 Subjective Factors. 

corrigibly immoral member. To be in society at all and out of 
jail he must practice the moral virtues of his age and coun- 
try. Great latitude there no doubt is in these matters, but his 
treatment by his fellow men will depend upon the degree to 
which he conforms to popular conceptions of right, and though 
he may keep within legal rules, if he persists in violating moral 
rules he will be ostracized and deprived of the means of gain- 
ing a livelihood, and ultimately made to perish and make room 
for those who will conform. Therefore there is no need to 
preach morality. It is self-regulating. Society literally com-^i 
pels its members to observe its moral laws. 

To the statement that ethics merely represents the social 
friction it may be objected that this is to take too narrow a 
view of the subject, that there are departments of ethics that 
are not covered by this definition. I have tried to discover 
such and thus far failed, although there are some cases in which 
this is apparently true. It may be said that ethics need not 
necessarily relate to others, but may relate wholly to self. One 
may do an immoral act to himself wholly irrespective of any 
other individual. For example he may be intemperate and 
thus abuse his own nature. To this it may be replied that if 
he were alone in some vast wilderness and his act were unknown 
to any other human being this would be a case in point. But 
it is merely a hypothetical case which could practically never 
occur, and if it should occur it would have no importance, 
because such a life would be socially useless. But the moment 
he is brought into society his immoral practises begin to react 
on others and in various ways to increase the friction of the 
social machinery. 

It is also true that this view relates primarily to normal or 
egoistic conduct and only secondarily to supra-normal or altru- 
istic, better named supererogatory conduct. At least benefi- 
cence, benevolence, philanthropy, charity, etc., do not directly 
result from conflicts in normal action. But we have only to 
analyze the motives to these to perceive that they are at least 



Social Friction. 109 

the indirect consequences of such conflicts. Taking charitable 
acts as the generic type of the whole supererogatory class, it 
is obvious that they presuppose the prior existence in society 
of serious obstructions to the normal course of action. They 
exist only because there is a class in society who are in some 
way more or less deprived of the means of subsistence. How 
came such a class to exist ? Clearly through some form of 
interference with their normal actions. There is an abundance 
of food. The benevolent class possess a large enough surplus 
to sustain the indigent class, and they are but a handful com- 
pared with the non-benevolent class who possess a surplus. 
Those who have nothing, were they free to act, would proceed 
to supply themselves with the surplus. Something prevents 
them from doing so. It is not to the purpose to inquire here 
what the nature of these barriers is, it is only necessary to 
point out that they exist. But this is only to say that action 
has been interfered with, arrested, clogged, choked, and hence 
objects of charity exist in society. An act of charity is, there- 
fore, from our present standpoint, simply a mode, usually only a 
temporary one, of relieving pressure upon this class, of clearing 
away the obstructions to life, in a word, of overcoming the 
social friction. 

The above is independent of the ethical nature of this kind 
of social friction and also of that of charitable action in general. 
It is fashionable now-a-days to animadvert upon all charitable 
work from the supposed fundamental and scientific standpoint 
that it interferes with the law of the survival of the fittest in 
society. The argument proceeds from a superficial analogy 
between animal life and human life, and is neither scientific 
nor sound. But this much is true and is the basis of the 
popular error, namely that under the law of parsimony, i. e., 
that an individual will always seek the greatest gain for the 
least effort, it is easy to create a pauper class by injudicious 
charity. This class then becomes in society the strict homo- 
logue of the degenerate parasite so well known in almost every 
department of biology. 



no Subjective Factors. 

There is, however, a really fundamental and scientific ob- 
jection to charity, but this I have never seen stated. It is that 
charity is really the giving by the benevolent class, not to the 
indigent class, but to the non-benevolent class. To illustrate 
this let us take the case of waiters' "tips" and porters' fees. 
All who have ever given the subject a moment's thought know 
that to tip a waiter or fee a porter is simply to give so much 
money to a hotel keeper or a railroad company. Its effect is to 
encourage these to continue to keep down the wages of these 
employes to the point of dependence upon the public, and the 
more generous the public the lower will be the wages. If all 
would resolve to cease tipping and feeing altogether, these 
employes would be paid regular wages like other employes. 
Charity and alms-giving do not differ in principle from this 
giving of tips and fees. It is true that in the latter case it is 
definitely known from whom the money should be taken as an 
act of justice, while in the former case the ones who should 
pay it are a large ill-defined class. But there is no doubt that 
the ones who have the wealth of the world have included in it 
the share of those who have none. The only escape from this 
conclusion is to say, as many are ready to do, that those who 
have nothing have no right to exist in society. If the indigent 
class were coextensive and identical with the criminal class 
there would be some ground for this position. But those who 
assume it generally argue that the poor are more moral than 
the rich, and it is probably true that the percentage of criminals 
from the wealthy classes is greater than that from the indigent 
classes. The only argument remaining is that poverty is due 
to idleness and profligacy. Yet if the percentage of idle and 
profligate rich could be compared with that of the idle and 
profligate poor, it would make a far worse showing for the 
former than that of the comparative criminality of these two 
classes. The conclusion therefore remains unassailable that 
the means of subsistence is justly due to the indigent class 
from the opulent class, and no amount of patchwork on the 



Social Friction. 1 1 1 

part of a few benevolent persons can ever balance this great 
account with society. Its effect is to increase the surplus of 
the non-benevolent in the sums contributed by the benevolent. 

The several considerations above brought forward are merely 
samples of the short-sighted and superficial character of nearly 
everything that is said or done with relation to ethics. This 
is because in the nature of things there cannot be any logical 
and fundamental treatment of that subject. The moment logic 
and scientific principles are applied the problem ceases to be 
an ethical one and becomes a sociological one. The ethical 
and sociological standpoints are the opposites of each other. 
The former looks to the curbing, the latter to the freeing of 
social energy. Any philosophy that has for its object the 
hemming and cribrJing of a great natural force can have no 
permanence. As well try to dam the waters of a river and 
hope for final success. 

This thought introduces the fundamental truth with which 
this treatment of social friction must conclude. It is that the 
whole subject of ethics is essentially provisional and the stage 
to which it belongs is a merely transitional stage. There are 
those who by devoting their whole lives to doing good conceive 
of the life of future blessedness as one in which there shall be 
no other occupation but that of doing good. They forget that 
they have been taught that in that life there will be no one to 
need their ministrations. Could they realize such a state it 
would appear a wretched one. The only thing they enjoy they 
would be deprived of. I have known saintly beings of this 
class who seemed so to long for an opportunity to do good, 
that they could not conceal a secret joy at the occurrence of an 
unfortunate accident which promised to furnish such an op- 
portunity. Were all suffering abolished the occupation of such 
persons would be gone. And yet Mr. Spencer and other 
ethical writers do but reflect a wide-spread popular sentiment 
in regarding ethical conduct as the climax of human achieve- 
ment and ethics as the goal of philosophy. 



1 1 2 Subjective Factors. 

The idea that there must always be a field for ethical action 
is only a part of the more general idea that all things must 
always be what they now are. And both of these ideas prevail 
in the face of the fact that the most radical changes have actu- 
ally many times taken place within the narrow limits of human 
history. "The poor always ye have with you" is supposed to 
express a necessary social truth. It is doubtless as true now 
as it was two thousand years ago, but that is far from giving 
warrant for saying that it will continue to be true two thousand 
years hence. There are many who think that it will have 
ceased to be true two hundred years hence. But if it shall 
thus cease it will not be ethical teaching but improved social 
organization that will have produced the change. And so one 
might take up one by one all the social facts that make ethical 
conduct possible, and theoretically conceive of their elimination. 
It will, of course, be said that such an idea is visionary and 
Utopian. Grant this and it still remains true that if any of the 
existing evils can be removed the domain of ethics is to that 
extent circumscribed. Deny that this is possible and the 
utility of all ethical work is given over. Admit that it is 
possible and there is no place to stop short of a reclamation of 
the whole field. 

But is this claim wholly Utopian ? Has there been no moral 
progress ? If not why continue to inculcate moral principles ? 
As a matter of fact there has been great moral progress. Let 
any one read the history of England, even the meager account 
of its kings and their exploits which is called history, and 
compare the acts of the men of the I2th to the i6th centuries 
with those of the men occupying relatively the same national 
and social positions to-day, and see whether there has been any 
moral progress. Not even in Russia which we call despotic 
is there anything to compare with the immorality that openly 
stalked abroad three hundred years ago over all Europe. The 
subject need not be enlarged upon. The other point to be 
noted is that none of this real moral progress has been due to 



Social Friction. 113 

the enforcement and inculcation of moral precepts. It has 
been wholly due to the march of events, such as the growth of 
scientific ideas, the spread of letters, the influence of commerce, 
the establishment of universities, the invention of printing, and 
the introduction of machinery and manufactures ; in general 
to the progress of intelligence, laying bare the enormity 
of the abuses formerly practised and creating a new code 
of morals which society literally enforces. Men could not 
be as cruel and immoral as they once were if they would. The 
power of public sentiment crushes every display of it. Iri_ 
other words as already stated, the modern improved morality 
is a condition to the modern improved state of civilization and 

the latter is the cause of the former, not the reverse as ethical 

-*j 

expounders teach. 

The effect of social friction is always painful, therefore moral 
progress, which consists in reducing this friction, is restricted 
in its popular acceptation to the lessening of pain i.e., to the 
mitigation of suffering, the decrease of misery, and the removal 
of unhappiness in general. In short it is negative in its -char- 
acter, and such it really is in the main. But there may be 
a positive moral progress consisting in the increase of pleasure, 
the heightening of enjoyment, and the broadening and deepening 
of human happiness. Just as social friction is painful so social 
action is pleasurable. All desire is for the exercise of some 
function, and the objects of desire are such only by virtue of 
making such exercise possible. Happiness therefore can only 
be increased by increasing either the number or the intensity 
of satisfiable desires. It has in fact been greatly increased in 
both these ways. Without elaborating this principle I will 
simply point to the very modern date of two of the highest 
sources of man's present enjoyment in civilized countries, the 
enjoyment of music and the enjoyment of what may be called 
beauty in the amorphous in the landscape, the cloud, the 
sea, the rocks, and the mountains. No faculty for appreciating 
either of these sources of delight seemed to exist in what we 




Subjective Factors. 

ancient times, and it is practically wanting in all but 
modern civilized races. At least it cannot be sufficiently de- 
veloped elsewhere to make up any considerable part of their 
enjoyment of life, which is the present point of view. Yet its 
germs doubtless exist in all races and have existed at all times, 
capable of development through civilization. 

The highest ideal of happiness, therefore, is the freest exer- 
cise of the greatest number and most energetic faculties. This 
must also be the highest ethical ideal. But it is clear that its 
realization would abolish moral conduct altogether and remove 
the very field of ethics from a scheme of philosophy. To remove 
the obstacles to free social activity is to abolish the so-called 
science of ethics. The avowed purpose of ethics is to abolish 
itself. The highest ethics is no ethics. Ideally moral conduct 
is wholly un-moral conduct. Or more correctly stated, the 
highest ideal of a moral state is one in which there will exist 
nothing that can be called moral. 

Whether we look at the subject from the standpoint of social 
progress or from that of individual welfare the liberation of 
social energy is the desideratum. The sociologist demands it 
because it increases the progressive power of society. The 
moralist should demand it because it increases happiness. For 
activity means both, and therefore the more activity the better. 
True morality not less than true progress consists in the eman- 
cipation of social energy and the free exercise of power. Evil 
is merely the friction which is to be overcome or at least mini- 
mized. This cannot be done by exhortation. It must be done 
by perfecting the social mechanism. The tendencies that pro- 
duce evil are not in themselves evil. There is no absolute evil. 
None of the propensities which now cause evil are essentially 
bad. They are all in themselves good, must necessarily be so, 
since they have been developed for the sole purpose of enabling 
man to exist, survive, and progress. All evil is relative. Any 
power may do harm. The forces of nature are good or bad 
according to where they are permitted to expend themselves. 



Social Friction. 115 

The wind is evil when it dashes the vessel on the rocks ; it is 
good when it fills the sail and speeds it on its way. Fire is evil 
when it rages through a great city and destroys life and prop- 
erty ; it is good when it warms human dwellings or creates the 
wondrous power of steam. Electricity is evil when in the 
thunderbolt it descends from the cloud and scatters death and 
destruction ; it is good when it transmits messages of love to 
distant friends. And so it is with the passions of men as they 
surge through society. Left to themselves like the physical 
elements they find vent in all manner of ways and constantly 
dash against the interests of those who chance to be in their 
way. But like the elements they readily yield to the touch of 
true science, which directs them into harmless, nay, useful 
channels, and makes them instruments for good. In fact human 
desires, as defined in Chap. IX, seeking their satisfaction iP 
through appropriate activity, constitute the only good from the 
standpoint of sociology. They are the Social Forces. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE SOCIAL FORCES. 

All beings which can be said to perform actions do so in obedience to 
those mental states which are denominated desires. . . . Desire is the 
essential basis of all action r and hence the true force in the sentient world ; 
and consistency as well as truth requires us to predicate this equally of man 
and of all things lower in the scale of animal life. . . . The classification 
of the forces operating in the department of animated nature will then be 
equivalent to, and, in fact, the same thing as, the classification of animal 
desires ; and, as what is true of all must be true of a part, this will likewise 
constitute a classification of the social forces. Dynamic Sociology, I, 468. 

The following table will exhibit at a glance the classification of the 
.social forces as already sketched: 

Preservative f Positive > gustatory (seeking pleasure). 
r orces. (^Negative, protective (avoiding pain). 

C Direct. The sexual and amative desires. 






8 



Reproductive 

Forces. (^Indirect. Parental and consangiuneal affections. 



c . f Esthetic Forces. 



^ o "4 Emotional (moral) Forces. 



Intellectual Forces. Dynamic Sociology, I, 472. 

Only when it is seen that the process is in all cases similarly determined 
by forces, and is not scientifically interpreted until it is expressed in terms 
of those forces ; only then is there reached the conception of Sociology 
as a science, in the complete meaning of the word. HERBERT SPENCER : 
Study of Sociology, p. 329. 

No psychologist has yet devoted himself to make, or has succeeded in 
making, a complete analysis of the emotions, by resolving the complex 
feelings into their simple elements and tracing them back from their complex 
evolutions to the primitive passions in which they are rooted ; this is a 
promising and much-needed work which remains to be done ; but when it 



The Social Forces. 1 1 7 

is done, it will be shown probably that they have proceeded originally from 
two fundamental instincts, or if we add consciousness of nature and aim 
passions, namely, that of self-preservation, with the ways and means of 
self-defense which it inspires and stimulates, and that of propagation, with 
the love of offspring and other primitive feelings connected with it. 
MAUDSLEY : Fortnightly Review, April i, 1874, Vol. XXI (New Series, 
Vol. XV), p. 470. 

Demgemass fiillt die Sorge fiir die Erhaltung jenes Daseyns, unter so 
schweren, sich jeden Tag von Neuem meldenden Forderungen, in der Regel, 
das ganze Menschenleben aus. An sie kniipft sich sodann unmittelbar 
die zweite Anforderung, die der Fortpflanzung des Geschlechts. Zugleich 
bedrohen ihn von alien Seiten die verschiedenartigsten Gefahren, denen zu 
entgehen es bestandiger Wachsamkeit bedarf. SCHOPENHAUER : Welt 
.als Wille, I, 368. 

While all wealth is not originated by labor, all labor originates wealth. 
Man toils, not because labor necessarily preceeds wealth, but because 
wealth necessarily follows labor. The possession of want-satisfying prod- 
ucts is what the laborer seeks, and desire is the moving force in the whob 
process. Labor is not to be conceived of as the vis a tergo that pushes 
wealth forward ; but wealth is to be conceived of as the siren that lures 
labor onward. Wealth is always the cause of labor ; labor is not always 
the cause Of wealth. . . . Nature subjected and appropriated is wealth ; 
man's subjection of nature is labor. J. B. CLARK : Philosophy of 
Wealth, p. 25. 

In view of the thoroughness with which the subject of the 
social forces was elaborated in Dynamic Sociology, it is of 
course no part of the purpose of the present chapter to enter 
into it exhaustively. As stated at the beginning of the present 
work the social forces constitute one of the two primary doc- 
trines of dynamic sociology, scarcely perceived by any other 
writer and as yet almost completely neglected even by those 
who are favorably disposed toward the general system of philos- 
ophy outlined in that work. I am far from anxious about the 
recognition of this or any other principle merely because it was 
practically original with me, and should be glad to learn that 
some one before me had developed it even more fully than I 
have done, especially if that would lead to its general recogni- 



1 1 8 Subjective Factors. 

tion, because I regard it as an exceedingly fertile principle, and 
one which, though, like most great truths, it may seem to some, 
after fully comprehending it, to be little more than a truism, 
lies at the foundation of social science and without which there 
can be no such science. To the objection of its simplicity it 
may be answered that nearly all important truths are simple 
and easy to understand, but this has not prevented most of 
them from remaining long unperceived, nor has it rendered 
them any the less effective agencies in revolutionizing thought 
when once recognized and applied. On the contrary it is usu- 
ally this quality of simplicity and reasonableness that has made 
such a use of them possible. 

I am not therefore disposed to believe that the failure to 
recognize and apply this principle to the great problems of 
society and economics has been due in any great degree to the 
humble source from which it was put forth, or to the fact that 
its announcement was not made ex cathedra, and I prefer to 
attribute it to causes more worthy of the able and earnest class 
of workers in these fields. Much of it is doubtless due to the 
fact that the large work in which it was incorporated was 
necessarily addressed to a small class of readers, is a heavy tax 
upon the busy brain of active investigators, contains much else 
to divert the attention, and has not made its way into the 
curriculum of colleges or lists of indispensable reading matter 
of most writers and teachers. 1 

It has also grown more and more apparent to me as the years 
have passed that notwithstanding the direct manner in which 
this principle appeals to the understanding and to the reason, 
still, so cautious has the rigid scientific method of the time 
made the investigators of every subject that many may have 
felt that, in the treatise referred to, it was not sufficiently sub- 
stantiated to be accepted in the form presented. So forcibly 
was I struck with it at that time, so impressed by its simplicity 

1 The work is now in use in the post graduate courses of the University of 
Chicago, the University of Indiana, Cornell University, and Colby University. 



The Social Forces. 1 1 9 

and obviousness, that from a desire to avoid the possible charge 
of seeking to demonstrate an axiom, I refrained from presenting 
the philosophic grounds on which the principle itself rests, and 
contented myself with its simple announcement as a truth 
apparent to all. The treatment that followed was confined 
exclusively to the elaboration of the details that naturally flow 
from it. But since the appearance of that work in 1883 I have 
had many intimations that this part of the subject had been 
slighted. It is true that the general philosophy of desire was 
there treated from a psychological point of view in several 
places, particularly in chapters V, VII, IX, and XI, but the more 
I reflected upon it the more difficult it appeared, and the greater 
seemed the need of subjecting it to a thorough analysis as a 
basis for the doctrine of the social forces to rest upon. Plain 
and simple as the statement seems that the desires constitute 
the social forces, as soon as the attempt is made to go deeper 
and explain the nature of the desires great difficulties arise. 
The whole philosophy of feeling is opened up and the knotty 
problems of pleasure and pain, of the soul and the will, and the 
train of complicated antecedents to individual and social action 
must be probed to the bottom. Nor can one escape from the 
consideration of social friction which involves the vast lumber- 
strewn field of ethics. Those therefore who hesitate to accept 
the doctrine of the social forces, as originally presented, on the 
ground that it was not adequately supported by scientific proofs, 
seem to me to be much nearer right than those who discard it 
because it is too elementary. For the former class I have great 
respect, and this I have endeavored to show by the present 
attempt to elaborate the groundwork of that principle. To do 
this I have found it necessary to dwell almost exclusively in the 
domain of psychology, and to show that one great neglected 
department of that science underlies this principle, and forms 
the only secure basis for the whole science of sociology. Here 
at last the mind that seeks for causal relations can rest with 
a sense of satisfaction. 



120 



Subjective Factors. 




But in this search for the foundations of sociology we seem, 
as it were, to have stumbled upon a true science of mind. 
Both sciences have their roots far down in the beginnings of 
sentient life and we find ourselves, whether we will or no, 
feeling our way in the morning twilight of the soul of nature. 
We assist at the birth of a great transforming agency, and we 
follow this new-born power to its maturity in the social forces. 
In Chap. XV it was seen that desire is a true natural force and 
the_ basis of dynamic psychology, yWhich accounts for the trans- 
formations that have taken pla<fe through the activities of the 
higher animals and of mar>r It is obvious that it is no other 
which is the motor of >ocial change, and the truth comes forth 
that the social forces are essentially psychic. It is this that 
has made it imperative that the foundations of sociology be 
sought in psychology. I wish to lay special stress on this 
because it certainly has not been sufficiently insisted upon, and 
writers on sociology have seemed rather to be trying to base 
the science upon biology and to find its dynamics in the vital 
forces. 

Although I have used the expression dynamic sociology in 
a somewhat special sense, fully explained in the work by that 
title, and to be, if possible, still more clearly brought out in the 
second part of this work, still, I have never lost sight of the 
primary sense, in which society is looked upon as a theater of 
active forces, its phenomena explained as due to those forces, 
and its condition at any time or place interpreted as the result 
of the former action of those forces. It is only in geology that 
the word dynamic, in precisely this sense, has been regularly 
adopted and is constantly used to mark off a distinct depart- 
ment of that science. But there is no reason why it should 
not be introduced into all the sciences, 1 since all must have, in 
order to be sciences at all, their dynamic department. The 

1 This chapter was written early in March, 1892, since which date Prof. Simon 
N. Patten of the University of Pennsylvania has published a work entitled : The. 
Theory of Dynamic Economics. Publications of the University of Pennsylvania, 
Political Economy and Public Law Series, Vol. Ill, No. 2, Philadelphia, 1892. 



The Social Forces. 121 

other departments of most or all, sciences are chiefly the his- 
torical and the descriptive, or some may be restricted to the 
latter alone. The dynamic department of the other sciences, 
except geology, either have not been specially named or they 
have been called by other names. In astronomy that depart- 
ment is usually called the mathematical and if we exclude 
sidereal astronomy, which as yet scarcely possesses a dynamic 
department, i.e., is as yet scarcely a' science, this is the most 
exact of all the sciences. In physics no special name has been 
given to this department because it embraces so nearly the 
whole of the science. In chem/stry it includes everything that 
relates to elective affinity and'reagency, and leaves little else 
except the description of chemical substances and the history 
of their discovery. In biol/gy there was no recognized dyna- 
mic department until the^ime of Darwin. Lamarck and a few 
others had founded this/department and thus erected it into a 
science, but their views were rejected. It now has a definite 
dynamic department, ^nd its phenomenal progress since Darwin 
simply shows what jL vivifying power this principle possesses 
whenever it is app/ied ; shows, in a word, the power of the 
scientific treatment of any subject. 

The old psycj/ology was wholly devoid of a dynamic depart- 
ment. It was nit a science but mere metaphysics, i.e., beyond 
nature, as the word implies, and transcendental, as the meta- 
physicians admitted. Objective psychology in and of itself is 
essentially so. Psychology does not become a science until its 
subjective phenomena are considered, because it is in these 
that its forces lie. 

With regard to sociology, although Comte, who founded and 
named it, dimly perceived that it possessed a dynamic depart- 
ment and treated both social statics and social dynamics at 
some length, and although Spencer wrote an early work en- 
titled Social Statics, implying the existence of social forces, it 
remained, I am bound to affirm, without a clearly recognized 
dynamic department until the appearance of Dynamic Sociology 



122 



Subjective Factors. 



in 1883. This is not because there was not an attempt on the 
part of both Comte and Spencer to establish such a depart- 
ment, but because these authors both made the mistake of sup- 
posing that the social forces were vita] instead of psychic_ 
forces. They both perceived the analogy between society and 
in organism, and the latter has worked out this analogy to its 
minutest details. Although . much too competent a biologist 
not to perceive that it was only an analogy, and that society is 
not a literal organism, he still treats the development of society 
essentially and persistently from the biological standpoint, and 
calls in as its conditioning instrumentalities the biologic laws 
and principles that he had so ably expounded in his Principles 
of Biology. 

I hasten to disclaim, however, that in the above is meant to 
be implied a complete failure on the part of all writers to rec- 
ognize the existence of the true social forces as I define them, 
or of the fact that desires are true forces. There is no im- 
portant truth established by scientific investigation which poets 
and seers such as Goethe, Shakspeare, and Emerson, have not 
foreshadowed in their vague but comprehensive forms of dic- 
tion. Of the older philosophers Spinoza, Hobbes, and Bacon 
have given adumbrations of the true position of hunger, 
and love as mainsprings to human action. Among moderns 
Maudsley clearly perceived the social power of love distinct 
from its physiological function. But it must also be admitted 
that both Comte and Spencer have perceived and repeatedly 
referred to these underlying causes of social phenomena 
and recognized their fundamental nature. Indeed, what phi- 
losopher, nay, what thoughtful person could fail to see that 
hunger, love, and want in general drive men on in a great 
struggle with nature and absorb the energies of the greater 
part of mankind ? It is true that the popular notion is that 
" money" is what all the world is seeking, or, as some keen- 
sighted, coarse natures more fully and accurately state it, 
" money or women"; and the vulgar newspaper heading that 



The Social Forces. 123 

there was "a woman in the case" shows that love is also rec- 
ognized as a universal power in society.. But all this is not 
philosophy. It is the mere glimpse which the masses catch of 
principles that no one could formulate. These principles are 
not established by the fact that popular writers crystalize 
these glimpses in neat epigrams or weave them into romances. 
All know with what immense labor every great truth has had 
to be brought forth and really born. A few university lectures, 
laboratory experiments, or even carefully prepared memoirs in 
the Philosophical Transactions would not have established the 
law of gravitation. It required the labor of a lifetime cul- 
minating in the Principia for the world really to possess this 
truth. To establish the law of organic development Darwin 
must write at least five volumes packed with facts and weighted 
with arguments. Cosmic and organic evolution could make no 
headway until a Synthetic Philosophy was put behind it. And 
so it is with all great conceptions. Littre embodied the idea in 
its application to Comte's Positive Philosophy when in his in- 
troduction to the edition of 1869, he said: " II n'est point de 
grande doctrine sans grand livre." And so I presume that the 
conception of a dynamic sociology will require much more than 
two thick volumes fairly to launch it into the world. And the 
132 pages devoted to this one of the two cardinal principles of 
that doctrine needs to be supplemented by half another volume 
setting it squarely upon its psychologic base, so that there shall 
not remain the least chance for it to fall or a single brick want- 
ing to threaten its permanent connection with the whole fabric 
of nature below it. Upon biology it can only rest unconform- 
ably and precariously, since it is felt that there is a causal 
hiatus between them, but upon psychology it rests naturally 
and safely, since, as has been shown, the dynamic department 
of psychology becomes also that of sociology the moment we 
rise from the individual to society. The social forces are 
the psychic forces as they operate in the collective state of 
man. 



124 Subjective Factors. 

The present work, therefore, is only intended to be com- 
plementary of the previous one. In that the social forces were 
defined, their laws established, and their action jmd^ffects set 
forth, but their origin, nature and cause were not treated. The 
foregoing pages are intended to supply this deficiency and to 
place the doctrine itself of true natural forces in society upon a 
scientific footing. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

RECAPITULATION. 

The several steps that lead up through the labyrinth of 
mental phenomena to the full conception of social forces may 
now be briefly summarized with profit. 

The phenomena of mind in its widest sense belong to two 
distinct classes, viz., those embraced under feeling and those 
embraced under intellect, both these terms being expanded 
to include both preliminary or initial, and supplementary or 
derivative stages. The department of feeling is subjective 
psychology, that of the intellect is objective psychology. 

The impression of an object on the nerve of sense through 
its appropriate medium produces a sensation, and invariably 
must do so, although in certain senses the organism as a unit 
or ego is not conscious of this sensation. Sensations thus 
produced may be classified as follows : 



( Pleasurable, ( 
,. Intense j ^.^ J 

2 . Indifferent j Conscious, , JZ 
\ Unconscious.} '^ 



A sensation consists in the transmission of the impression 
in the form. of some little understood molecular change in the 
nerve fiber of the afferent nerve to the sensorium and back 
along the efferent nerve to the point impressed. Whether the 
sensation be intensive or indifferent will depend upon the force 
of the impression, strong impressions producing intensive, 
feeble ones indifferent sensations. Subjective psychology re-V 
lates to intensive sensations and their subsequent phenomena/* 
Objective psychology results from indifferent sensations. ~7\ 
sensation which, though distinct, is so slight as to produce 
neither pleasure nor pain conveys to the brain a notion of the 



126 Subjective Factors. 

nature of the object producing it. This notion is called a 
perception, as is also the act of receiving the notion. Percep- 
tions are impressions made by nerve-currents transmitted to 
the cortical layers of the brain. Such impressions are reg- 
istered so as to be to a considerable extent permanent. This 
makes it possible for the brain to possess a large number of 
perceptions, and through the incessant activity of all brain 
substance by the aid of innumerable connecting fibers these 
perceptions are combined, grouped, compared, and classified. 
Every object has numerous qualities, and when a number of 
such have been perceived, the mind, by the process described, 
combines these into a conception of the whole object. Con- 
ceptions are compared in like manner and their agreement or 
disagreement becomes a third psychological unit called a judg- 
ment. Judgments are subjected to similar processes and 
there result all the different forms of reasoning and thinking. 
Memory, imagination, and artistic creation result from the fact 
that all psychological operations are more or less permanently 
registered in the brain substance and may be used in any 
desired way at any time. This entire process, however far it 
may be carried, constitutes objective psychology or the phenom- 
ena of the intellect. 

The phenomena of feeling constituting subjective psychology 
are wholly different from those of intellect constituting objec- 
tive psychology. With the sensor apparatus there is always 
connected a motor apparatus. To an intensive sensation there 
is always a response along a motor nerve connecting with the 
appropriate muscles, and their contraction results. If the sensa- 
tion is painful, those muscles will contract which will tend to 
remove the organ or the whole organism from the pain-pro- 
ducing object. If the sensation is pleasurable the opposite set 
of muscles will contract, and the organ or organism will approach 
the object and seek to continue or increase the sensation. 

Besides the five external senses there is a sixth or internal 
sense, which may be called the emotional sense. Like the 



Recapitulation. 127 

sense of touch and unlike the other four, it is diffused through- 
out the body, having no single local seat, but having, never- 
theless, a number of regions of special sensibility due to exten- 
sive nerve-plexuses. The emotional sense is located chiefly 
or wholly in parts of the body that are supplied with fibers from 
the great sympathetic nervous system. The special distinguish- 
ing characteristic of the emotional sense is that it is not 
affected by material objects either directly or through any 
medium of communication, but receives its impressions 
through nerve currents transmitted from the brain. The objects 
producing sensations are therefore chiefly psychologic, the prod- 
ucts of brain action as above described. Such action is some- 
times called ideation, and these products, ideas. It is these 
ideas which produce emotional sensations. This sense and this 
class of sensations are of primary moment to subjective psychol- 
ogy, although they depend upon the phenomena of objective 
psychology. 

Pleasure and pain are the conditions to the existence of 
plastic organisms, pleasure leading to those acts which insure 
nutrition, and reproduction, and pain to those which will insure 
safety. Both were developed under the laws of natural selec- 
tion or survival of the fittest, and present no special biological 
anomalies or difficulties. It was because it secured these ends 
that the nervous system acquired its motor apparatus accom- 
panying its sensor apparatus, and that intensive sensations 
always result in the movements called forth by the nature of 
the objects producing them. 

In the animal world there has gone on under the laws of 
evolution a gradual process of cephalization, by which the power 
of combining perceptions of the qualities of objects into con- 
ceptions and remembered mental states has been increased. 
The remembrance of an agreeable sensation and its attendant 
circumstance gave rise to the representation of pleasure not 
presently experienced. This mental state reacted upon the 
emotional sense producing a special form of sensation, intensive, 



v 
f 



V \ 



128 Subjective Factors. 

and essentially painful in its nature, but unlike the primary 
form of pain. This sensation is called desire. Desire may be 
called secondary or representative pain in contradistinction to 
that produced by the too violent direct contact of objects, which 
is primary or presentative pain. Desire is prurient in its nature, 
and this pruriency is satisfied by the attainment of an appro- 
priate object which is to yield the pleasurable sensation repre- 
sented. Like other sensations it is attended by motor effects, 
and the muscles contracted are those which impel the organism 
toward the object desired. The attainment of the object not 

A only satisfies and terminates the desire, but it yields the 
pleasure represented. As desire can only result from an idea 
of the pleasure-giving quality of the object, it must have 
eveloped pari passu with the organ whose function it is to 
I generate ideas, viz., the cortical layers or cerebral hemispheres. 
Hence cephalization had for its earliest result the development 

/and increase of conscious desires. 
As a consequence of this process of cephalization and in- 
creasing desire in the animal world activity increased, and this 
^ /activity became a transforming agency. The leading desires 
0^ were for nutrition, protection, and reproduction. These are 
the ends of Nature and her only ends, but since the satisfaction 
of desire in addition to securing these ends, also yielded pleas- 
ure to the organism, this pleasure constituted an end and was 
the only end the organism sought. To attain the end of the 
organism, pleasure, was to secure the end of Nature, function. 
But in pursuing solely the first of these ends, certain important 
results were brought about which had no relation to either 
pleasure or function, and which wrought great changes in the 
constitution of organic life and in its surrounding conditions. 
The most important of these changes below the human stage 
of development, were the creation of a flower and fruit bearing 
vegetation, the transfer of physical superiority from the female 
to the male, and probably the development of the primary 
directing faculty of the brain known as sagacity or cunning. 





Recapitulation. 129 

\ 

The transforming agency was neither the desire nor the plea- 
sure of satisfying it, still less the function thereby subserved, 
but the activities resulting from the efforts put forth in the 
attainment of these ends. The changes wrought were no part 
of the purpose either of Nature or the organism, but were 
purely incidental. They were not always beneficial, but have 'yv 
thus far been in the main progressive. They have marked 




great epochs in evolution. Therefore the true beneficiary of 
their effects is evolution or general organic progress. With 
respect therefore to the general subject of desire, it may be ^ 
said that : ^ V 

I yy,* 

1. The object of Nature is Function, / ^ ^ / 

2. The object of the Organism is Pleasure, fr * 

3. The object of Evolution is Activity. 

Considering activities as motions, the forces producing those" 
motions are the desires, and we have a science which may b 
^called mental physics or psychics. It constitutes the dynamic)// 
department of psychology and may also be called the dynamics 
of mind. 

Rising to the human stage, while no change is perceptible 
in the nature of the principle considered, the cooperative habits 
of the human animal resulting in what is known as society 
gives this principle greatly increased importance. Animated, 
the same as the lower animals only more intensely, by desires, 
seeking those higher and more generalized pleasures which 
collectively go by the name of happiness, man has, almost as 
unconsciously as the lower animals, put forth varied, multiplied, 
and incessant efforts, attended by universal, continual, and 
restless activity, and resulting in wide-spread, radical, and 
colossal changes in all his surroundings. Not always useful^ , ^ \ 
any more than were those of the humbler creatures, these ^\^ 
changes in his environment have nevertheless been upon trie" 
whole progressive, and constitute, taken together, what is knowix, 
as civilization. Not themselves the object of either Nature 
or Man, their true beneficiary, in so far as they have resulted in 



130 Subjective Factors. 

benefit, has been society, which is with respect to them as 
impersonal and unconscious as Evolution must be conceived to 
be of the results of animal activity. The conclusion is thus 
again reached, as at the close of Chap. XIII, that: 

1. The object of Nature is Function, / 

2. The object of Man is Happiness, /? i t , 

3. The object of Society is Action. 

Treating human action as social motion, the forces producing 
this motion are the desires, and we have a science which may 
be called social physics. It constitutes the dynamic depart- 
ment of sociology or dynamic sociology in the primary sense of 
that term, the department which treats of the social forces. 



PART II. 

OBJECTIVE FACTORS. 



The only means by which the condition of mankind ever has been or 
ever can be improved, is the utilization of the materials and the forces that 
exist in nature. Dynamic Sociology, I, 18. 

Ohne wissenschaftliche Beobachtung, ohne Versuch und ohne gesunde 
Theorie ist in der Technik stetiger Fortschritt undenkbar. Er beruht 
nothwendig auf bewusster Benutzung der in ihrem gesetzmassigen Wirken 
durchschauten Naturkrafte. EMIL Du BOIS-REYMOND : Cnlturgeschichte 
und Naturivissenschaft, p. 19. 

What thin partitions sense from thought divide ! POPE : Essay on 
Man, Epistle i, line 226. 



CHAPTER XX. 

THE OMITTED FACTOR. 

Taking a retrospective view of the entire field of evolution and bearing 
in mind its uneven course as I have sought to depict it, there may be 
discerned, standing out prominently above all the minor fluctuations, a few 
great cosmic crises or epochs, in which the change appears so abrupt and 
so enormous as to suggest actual discontinuity. Three such cosmic epochs 
belong to the history of life on the globe. The first was the origin of life 
itself. The second was the origin of soul or will in nature. The third 
was the origin of thought or pure intellect. While I do not say that any 
of the factors producing these epochs came suddenly into existence, or that 
any definite lines exist separating life from soul or soul from intellect, 
theoretically speaking, the general fact remains that they are practically 
distinct principles, having diverse effects, originating at widely different 
periods in the earth's history, and succeeding one another in the order 
named. The Course of Biologic Evolution, p. 32. 

Denn der Intellekt 1st uns allsin aus der animalischen Natur bekannt, 
folglich als em durchaus sekundares und untergeordnetes Princip in der 
Welt, ein Produkt spatesten Ursprungs : er kann daher nimmermehr die 
Bedingung ihres Daseyns gewesen seyn, noch kann ein mundus intelligi- 
bilis dem mundus sensibilis vorhergehn ; da er von diesem allein seinen 
Stoff erhalt. Nicht ein Intellekt hat die Natur hervorgebracht, sondern die 
Natur den Intellekt. SCHOPENHAUER : Ueber den Willen in der Natur, 
P- 39- 

At the close of Chap. V reference was made to a neglected '/P* 
faculty or intellectual process which it was proposed to call 
intuition, or the intuitive faculty, and to make the subject of 
special treatment and the essential basis of the discussion in 
Part II. This omitted factor is a quality of mind, and, singu- 
larly enough, belongs to the department of objective psychol- 
ogy, i. e., to that department of mind which was first studied 
and which has received almost exclusive attention. Still more 
strange, it is the quality within that department which not 



134 Objective Factors. 

only was first developed, but has been chiefly useful to those 
beings that possessed the higher class of mental attributes. 
Although belonging to the intellect, the operations of which 
have been so carefully investigated, its operations have not 
been described, and notwithstanding the rich terminology that 
has long been in use for the intellectual faculties, this faculty 
has not been named. 

While this remarkable omission added much to the sterility 
of the old philosophy of mind, chiefly due, as stated in Chap. 
XIV, to its failure to recognize the psychic forces, it is equally 
fatal to the current social philosophy in lowering it to the 
plane of biology and divesting it of its only characteristic 
attribute, its essentially human or anthropic character. It is 
this that was the vice of the old political economy as embodied 
in the teachings of Ricardo and Malthus, and the sociology of 
Herbert Spencer and his adherents is simply an extension of 
the Ricardian and Malthusian doctrines. Malthus discovered 
a law of biology, but applied it to man to whom it is inap- 
plicable on account of this omitted factor. Darwin, who 
admits that he was inspired to his great labors by the writings 
of Malthus, saw the application of this law to the animal 
world and worked it out to its logical end, making an epoch in 
biology. Notwithstanding the failure of Malthusianism at all 
points, the impression prevailed, and still prevails, that it is a 
fundamental law of society, and the current sociology is based 
upon it. Although the whole trend of social events is directly 
against this doctrine, so much so that the latest utterances of 
its advocates .have assumed the tone of a general wail at the 
alleged reckless and headlong tide of things, still it is not 
perceived that this tide is due to a wholly neglected element 
in the current philosophy, and that when that element is taken 
into the account there is not only nothing reckless nor head- 
long in it, but it is the normal and healthy result of natural 
and legitimate causes. 

The fact is, thanks to this omitted factor, that man and 



The Omitted Factor. 135 

^society are not, except in a very limited sense, under the 
/ influence of the great dynamic laws that control the rest of 
Uhe organic world. Dynamic biology is a department distinc> " 
from dynamic sociology. The dynamics of society is, in the 
main, the antithesis of the dynamics of animal life. The 
psychic element referred to, supplants "nature" by art. If we 
call biologic processes natural, we must call social processes 
artificial. The fundamental principle of biology is natural 
selection, that of sociology is artificial selection. The survival 
of the fittest is simply the survival of the strong, which implies 
and would better be called the destruction of the weak. If 1 9 
nature progresses through the destruction of the weak, man^y * 
progresses through the protection of the weak. And so it is 
throughout. The terms are all reversed. 

It would be wrong to say that modern scientific philosophers 
take no account of so important a matter as brain develop- 
ment and human . intelligence. They only fail to see the 
radical change of base which these have effected. Imbued 
with usually safe uniformitarian principles they naturally 
shrink from sensational speculations about cataclysmic changes. 
But it is possible to carry this method too far. For while it 
is true that nature makes no leaps, while, so long as beginnings 
only are considered, all the great steps in evolution are due to 
minute increments repeated through vast periods, still, when 
we survey the whole field, as we must do to comprehend the 
scheme, and contrast the extremes, we find that nature has 
been making a series of enormous strides, and reaching from 
one plane of development to another. It is these independent 
achievements that the true philosopher must study. Not to 
mention the difference between a nebula and a solar system, 
or between a ball of fire and a habitable planet, the origin of 
life, through the development of a substance in which life 
inheres, was a saltus that finds no parallel. In Chap. XIV was 
portrayed the wonderful transformation wrought by the appear- 
ance of what I have defined as the soul in nature, the date of 



136 Objective Factors. 

which appearance can be geologically fixed with considerable 
precision. And now we have to contemplate a third cosmic 
epoch in the history of life, the birth of the intellect, 
developed in obedience to the same laws and for the 
better attainment of the same purpose the satisfaction of 
desire. 

The current sociology, it may be safely said, fails to recog- 
nize the full import of this psychic factor. Just as metaphy- 
sicians lost their bearings by an empty worship of mind, so 
modern evolutionists have missed their mark by degrading 
mind to a level with mechanical force. They seem thus ready 
to fling away the grand results that the doctrine of evolution 
cannot otherwise fail to achieve. I freely admit that the 
theologians commit a fatal error in treating the soul as inde- 
pendent of the body, but this enormous fallacy is scarcely 
greater than that of the modern evolutionist, who ignores the 
magnitude of the step which was taken when the soul acquired 
a directing agent. The enthusiastic student who climbs the 
Alps may climb to little purpose or come to grief unless he 
employs a guide. The great ship may sail beautifully in mid- 
ocean, but when she approaches a harbor she needs a pilot. 
Enthusiasm cannot help the one nor fair winds save the other. 
The course of biologic evolution has been exceedingly irregu- 
lar, the biologic policy is extravagantly wasteful 1 , so that 
nothing but enormous fecundity could prevent utter failure. 
Progress in nature was exceedingly slow under the rule of 
simple forces. All this was for want of a guide. Indeed it is 
this which makes all the difference between the animal and the 
man. It is a superficial view to suppose that the human form 
is essential to a human being. Form may help or impede, but 
no particular form could have prevented the general result. 
It is as easy to see defects as advantages in the actual human 
form. If we are thankful that man has a mouth and teeth 
instead of a toothless beak we may deplore his lack of wings. 

1 See Chap. XXXIII. 



The Omitted Factor. 137 

In either case and in any case the sapient brain would have 
made him the roaster creature. 

But the temptation to descant upon the results of " brain 
development," upon the achievements of "mind," and upon 
the "rational faculties" has too often been yielded to and 
generally proves profitless because there is no attempt to show 
how it comes about that they are the causes of the observed 
effects, and it is not to be wondered at under such circum- 
stances that the popular mind should as naturally ascribe these 
effects to the erect posture, the facial angle, the opposable 
thumb, and other anatomical differences that make the physical 
man, as to the more intangible qualities to which they are 
really and exclusively due. It still requires to be explained 
in a clear and intelligible way what the particular attribute 
of mind really is through which man's superiority has been 
reached and by what steps it has been developed and the 
vantage-ground gained. The study of the commonly accepted 
faculties of the mind does not accomplish this object. The") 
processes of perception, cognition, conception, judgment, \ 
reason, thought, however well understood, throw no light on / 
the problem. The facts of memory, imagination, creative ' 
power, wonderful and fascinating though they may be, lead us 
ncf~nearer to its solution. The more we contemplate these ^7 
things the clearer it becomes that these are not what_have I 
given man his advantage, and those who now possess them in ' 
f the" highest degree have no advantage over the rest of mankind.^ 



CHAPTER XXI. 

INTUITION. 

The second, or jndirect, method by which conscious beings seek to attain 
desired ends involves an entirely new principle, and produces wholly dif- 
ferent results. In the process of the development of the brain and the 
psychic faculties, a stage was ultimately reached at which the consciousness 
took on the attribute which enabled it to perceive a few of the general laws 
of phenomena, and thereby to predict from a given modification some of 
the secondary changes which would result. This is the simplest manifesta- 
tion of {the intellectiial f acuity^ and it is this faculty that constitutes the new 
element required to form the transition from the direct to the indirect 
method. This transition constitutes one of the great leaps which nature 
has taken along its course of evolution, and the first break in that process 
since the development of protoplasm. Henceforth the possibilities of vital 
existence are to be multiplied, and the rate of organic progress enormously 
accelerated. For success in the sentient world is the ability to attain its 
ends, and the intellectual element is especially adapted to augmenting that 
power. By the direct method, action in this direction is restricted to cases 
which are within the muscular strength of the organism, and easily acces- 
sible without the intervention of obstacles. The utmost possible to be ac- 
complished by it was measured by the eriergy actually expended. The 
least obstruction beyond the power of the individual to clear away by mus- 
cular force is an effectual bar to its access to the object of desire. By the 
aid of the new element all this is changed. Interposed barriers are evaded 
by circuitous routes of approach. Powerful natural forces are by appro- 
^J'priate adjustments made to do the work of overcoming resistance, and what 
<0 is wholly unattainable in the present is, by the necessary adaptation, se- 
cured in the future. Dynamic Sociology, II, 99100. 

\f , ) 

. )'The order of evolution was not from knowledge in any form to feeling, 
but the reverse, and we may suspect that in the completest analysis con- 

) sciousness will still be found to obey its original law. If the rise of knowledge 
was at the instance of feeling, it is certainly unlikely that a fundamental or- 
der should be more than apparently reversed. HIRAM M. STANLEY: 
Philosophical Review, July, 1892, Vol. I, p. 438. 

Acknowleding the many blunders likely to be made in so broad a depart- 
ure from traditions, I yet must declare this whole matter of the biological 



Intuition. 1 39 

origin of mind to be one of the most promising sources of future psycholog- 
ical investigation. To me, also, it is a main avenue to the deeper secrets 
of the universe and of man's futurity. Dr. HERBERT NICHOLS : Philo- 
sophical Review, September, 1892, Vol. I, p. 534. 

Der Wille, als das Ding an sich, macht das innere, wahre und unzerstor- 
bare Wesen des Menschen aus : an sich selbst ist er jedoch bewusstlos. 
Denn das Bewusstseyn ist bedingt durch den Intellekt, und dieser ist ein 
blosses Accidenz unseres Wesens : denn er ist eine Funktion des Gehirns, 
welches, nebst den ihm anhangenden Nerven und Riickenmark, eine blosse 
Frucht, ein Produkt, ja, insofern ein Parasit des iibrigen Organismus ist, 
als es nicht direkt eingreift in dessen inneres Getriebe, sondern dem Zweck 
der Selbsterhaltung bloss dadurch dient, dass es die Verhaltnisse desselben 
zur Aussenwelt regulirt. SCHOPENHAUER : Welt als Wille, II, 224. 

Diese Steigerung der Gehirnentwickelung, also des Intellekts und der 
Klarheit der Vorstellung, auf jeder dieser immer hoheren Stufen, wird aber 
herbeigefiihrt durch das sich immer mehr erhohende und komplicirende 
Bediirfniss dieser Erscheinungen des Willens. Dieses muss immer erst den 
Anlass dazu geben : denn ohne Noth bringt die Natur (d. h. der in ihr sich 
objektivirende Wille) nichts, am wenigsten die schwierigste ihrer Produc- 
tionen, ein vollkommneres Gehirn hervor. SCHOPENHAUER : Ibid. II, 315. 

In giving the name intuition to the omitted factor just con- 
sidered, at least to its earlier manifestations, I do so to avoid 
the introduction of a new term, and in the full knowledge that 
much has been said about intuition. I would not do so, how- 
ever, if it did not seem evident that the application here to be 
made is really an extension of the commonly accepted meaning, 
even the popular sense of that term, nevertheless the appli- 
cation is a new one and few would probably recognize its 
appropriateness. 

The discovery of the true dynamic principle in biology has N 
not only revolutionized that science, but must, equally affect/ 
those sciences which rest upon biology, viz., psychology and, 
sociology. While the dynamic agent in biology is not the 
same as that of psychology the latter has been a direct out- 
growth from the former. The key note to the whole series is 
the notion of advantage. It has been seen that the origin and 




140 Objective Factors. 

growth of the soul-force in nature have taken place in response 
to the correspondingly increasing demand for opportunity to 
expand. To the organism the only gain consists in increased 
ability to satisfy desire ; anything that secures that end becomes 
an object of effort. From this, resulted the development of 
the conative power. It is the essential of sentient life to 
strive. Desire is the force that impels all activity, and by the 
multiplication of desires and the strengthening of their inten- 
sity, all was attained that the operation of pure psychic energy 
was capable of accomplishing. Whatever obstacles could be 
thus overcome were removed, and all the ends of being that 
would yield to the power of direct effort were realized. This 
is still the chief method employed by animals and the lower 
types of men in compassing their ends. In popular parlance 
it is described with tolerable accuracy as brute force. 

But there were innumerable objects of desire that could not 
be attained by this method. Hence innumerable desires were 
doomed to go unsatisfied. The higher the development the 
more complex and varied the desires, and the greater the 
proportion of those that were unattainable by the primary 
method of direct effort. Just as in the realm of pure biologic 
law the stage of organization reached at any given epoch was 
capable of development only to a certain point, beyond which 
the organism could not progress, and at which it must stop 
and remain until some new and better structures could be de- 
veloped that would admit of a new departure, so in the realm 
of psychic law the pure conative force was incapable of allowing 
the organism to advance beyond a certain stage, where it would 
have remained indefinitely but for the appearance of a new 
psychic faculty adapted to giving it a new impetus. This stage 
corresponds roughly with the summit of the animal series, 
although the new element began to be operative some time 
anterior to this period. Again, just as any new and progres- 
sive structure in biology, such as the trunk in trees, the floral 
organs that succeeded the spore-bearing state, the closed ovary, 



Intuition. 141 

or the successive steps in the development of the floral en- 
velopes, may be looked upon as so many devices of nature to 
secure the biologic end of increasing the mass of organic 
matter in the world, so each new psychic quality which secures 
the increased gratification of desire and thus fulfils in an in- 
creased degree the psychic end, enjoyment, may be similarly 
regarded as a device of nature adapted to its peculiar purpose. 
And yet each such step in organic evolution has a long history 
behind it, is the normal effect of antecedent causes, and was 
brought to any observed stage of perfection through the slow 
operation of developing influences. It is the general failure to 
recognize this truth that renders the current philosophy of the 
mind so unsatisfactory, and which, I fully believe, has led to 
such remarkable omissions as the one now under consideration. 
In biology it is becoming recognized that the beings inhabiting 
the earth, considered as material organic products, have been 
raised to their present estate through a prolonged series of 
developmental steps, but in psychology it is still the practic 
to deal with mind as something independent of the past, as iJ 
it had come forth, like its goddess Minerva, full-fledged fro 
the brain of Jove. 

Guided by the biologic principle of advantage, keeping in 
, view the psychologic end, enjoyment, and considering the 
:.T ( inadequacy of the primary psychic means to that end, direct 
effort or brutejorce, we are in position to penetrate into the 
intimate conditions which must have combined to give direction 
to developmental tendencies leading to the origin and genesis 
of a psychic faculty destined to usher in a new and higher 
epoch. Desire, as a true natural force, impels the organism in 
a straight line toward the attracting, or away from the repelling 
object. But obstacles intervene. At first, while activity is 
sluggish, the organism, like a material body similarly acted 
upon, simply comes to rest. Its force meets a counter-force, 
and equilibrium results. But later, when desire has grown 
stronger and activity more intense, while locomotion is checked 





142 Objective Factors. 

by intervening obstacles, internal motion, or motility, continues, 
and the effort is unabated. Imagine it to be a winged insect. 
Its wings continue to vibrate the same as if no obstacle were 
in its way. Suppose the obstacle to be transparent and the 
goal to remain in full view. Against this obstruction the 
creature persists in buzzing, each vibration only serving to 
produce pressure against it. Fatigue at length causes the 
insect to yield to the force of gravitation. It falls below and 
perchance encounters an opening through which it immediately 
darts and secures the coveted prize. But should this not 
occur, a moment of comparative repose restores its energy and 
it resumes its efforts, this time moving irregularly and for- 
tuitously over the surface against which it continues to press 
until it either accidentally rises above it, or shifts its position 
to its right or left margin, or to another opening through it, 
and thus succeeds. If we suppose an environment in which 
this, or a similar obstruction, impedes a large proportion of its 
efforts, an environment which remains more or less permanent 
through an indefinite number of generations of such a creature, 
the advantage derived from such persistent vertical and lateral 
movements would be such as to develop in the brain through 
the known laws of selection and survival, modifications of 
structure adapted to their regular and systematic execution. 
Those individuals in which this quality was best developed, 
would be the ones that would live longest and be most certain 
to leave posterity, until those devoid of it would have dis- 
appeared, and an organism would be developed possessing 
superior ability to satisfy its desires. This mental quality 
would at first take the form of an instinct, but all instincts are 
only partially so, and the faculty would soon be strengthened 
sufficiently to meet and overcome slight changes in the environ- 
ment. In fact, the less instinctive it was, the greater would be 
the advantage, and it would continue to develop as long as such 
development possessed any advantage. This development 
would consist in the formation of cortical centers whose 




X 

function itns to guide the activities of an organism to the 
performance of acts which in themselves have no direct effect 
in attaining the ends of its being, but by the aid of which 
alone, in a vast number of cases, it is enabled to "attain them. 

This step in the progress of intellectual development may 
be characterized as the stage of exploration. It is well illus- 
trated by the numerous experiments actually made on frogs. 
This animal, before the vivisectionist has removed its cerebral 
hemispheres, has this faculty fully developed. Placed at the 
bottom of a tank of water with a bell-glass over it, it will 
soon require air and rise to the submerged surface of the 
bell-glass through which it sees the free open air and light 
above, which it cannot reach by this method. Instead of con- 
tinuing to press against the bell-glass indefinitely until it 
drowns, it will immediately commence a series of movements, 
first about the upper surface, then round the sides, and finally 
back to the bottom. If space enough exists on any side under 
the lower edge of the bell-glass for it to escape, it will find it, 
and soon come up to the top of the water outside the glass. 
If, however, its hemispheres have been skillfully removed so 
as not greatly to injure the animal's vitality, as is easily done, it 
is remanded to the condition of our hypothetical insect before 
the development of the exploring instinct, and will remain as 
motionless under the roof of the bell-glass as do the bubbles 
it has generated, which latter act under the influence of purely 
physical laws. 

The frog has doubtless passed the stage of mere instinctive 
exploration, and fairly entered upon the second stage, which 
may more properly be called that of incipient intuition. By 
the aid of the faculty it has acquired it is able to perceive that 
the indirect act will be the successful one. But even if it 
could see distinctly the opening below, so feeble is this faculty 
that it would probably first explore the interior of the bell- 
glass and not finally hit upon the right way until a large 
number of ineffective ways had first been tried. The third 



144 Objective Factors. 

stage, or that of ///// intuition, is not reached until the 
creature, after surveying its surroundings, is capable of per- 
ceiving from the outset that only by setting out in a direction 
different from that of the object to be attained, can it succeed. 
It will therefore undertake no explorations, but will proceed 
directly to the location of the means as if it were itself the 
end. A canary shut up in a room will fly against a closed 
window to escape, but a jackdaw will seek a small opening 
which leads out, although it "may be so arranged as not to 
admit the light. 

By considering a great variety of animals possessing different 
degrees of this attribute all gradations between the purely 
machine-like actions of the lower types and the highest stage 
/reached in the subhuman world could probably be found. The 
display of this quality would be seen not to coincide exactly 
with the purely biological development, nor to depend upon 
physical organization entirely, although in the long run there is 
rough correspondence of this kind. But some invertebrates 
P. are psychically higher than some vertebrates, and some birds 
' t^an many mammals. It depends largely upon other conditions, 
i/such as environment, mode of subsistence, fecundity, etc. It 
will be Jiigher_ in ^ hosdle^environment than in one where 
dangers are few ; predatory animals have it greatly in excess of 
jJP A herbivorous ones, and a slow rate of breeding calls it forth as a 
r Jr 'substitute for numbers. This last is clearly exemplified in the 
f contrast in these respects between rats and mice, though so 
f ^H rlosely related otherwise, yet in this case the larger size of the 
yy j/ rat doubtless has much to do with it. A very late influence 
also comes in here and is now exceedingly potent with many 
other animals, viz., the fear of man. The tameness of animals 
on remote islands, as the Galapagos, has been much discussed, 
but many, like myself, have had opportunity to watch the 
progress of this principle in the game at points where popula- 
tion has rapidly increased. It may be doubted whether the 
time is here sufficient to assume an actual development of 





Intuition. 145 

special cortical centers, though this may be more rapid than 
would be supposed, but it is probable that such centers already 
existing in such birds as the pinnated grouse (prairie-hen), for 
example, but previously developed for other purposes, have 
taken on this additional function vicariously, and have been 
quickly fitted up, as it were, for their new duties. 

If we search the matter to the bottom we will find that not 
only are all these different manifestations virtually one and the 
same faculty, but that no other strictly intellectual faculty exists 
in the animals considered. It is the primary and original form 
that intellect assumes, and is, up to the highest stage thus far 
treated, the intellect itself. Unlike the so-called reflective 
faculties that have formed the subject of nearly all psycho- 
logical investigation, this attribute is intensely practical, exists^ 
for a definite purpose, and is the means and secret of success 
to the beings that possess it in the great struggle for existence. 
It is simple and direct, and beyond the steps explained which 
led, as one may say, to its discovery through exploration, it is 
incapable of analysis or reduction to lower terms. 

I have called this faculty intuition from the etymological 
accuracy of the word. It consists in a power acquired by 
the mind, of looking into a more or less complicated set of 
circumstances and perceiving that movements which are not in 
obedience to the primary psychic force are those that promise 
success. It may be called psychic attraction, or the faculty of S 
converting means into ends and diverting the psychic force 
from the latter to the former. The means is made for the 
time being the object of desire, and as such is directly sought. 
But in order to this it must be first seen by the mind, which 
must possess a distinct motor apparatus for switching off the 
train of ideas from the track that leads to the end to the one 
that leads to the means. From another point of view this kind 
of intuition may be called a perception of relations. Perception 
proper, as defined in Chap. V, is an entirely different thing. * 
It merely notes the nature of an object, either directly or 



146 Objective Factors. 

through its appropriate medium, in cases where the impression 
produces an indifferent sensation. It is also different from 
my understanding of the German term Anschatiung, which, as 
Kant says "relates immediately to the object," although this 
object need not, as in the case of perception, be material, but 
may be either time or space. This doubtless comes much 
nearer to the attribute in question and by a slight extension of 
the Kantian definition may be made to include it. But intuition 
as here used is always a perception of relations, not merely in 
time and space, but relations of Resistance and direction. 
Moreover, I am not aware that Kant, although he translates 
the German word by the Latin intuitus, has ever applied it to 
the primary and practical quality of mind here described. It is 
with him a purely metaphysical conception, furnishing through 
the senses the objects of the mind in its complex processes of 
ideation, reason, and thought. The new intuition is of a higher 
order. It employs the senses but is not directly derived from 
them. It is a form of thought, is under subjection to the will, 
is the product of ever-pressing and constantly unsatisfied desire, 
and therefore has its origin in the emotional sense. It is much 
more closely linked to the great subjective psychic trunk of the 
mind than any of the so-called faculties treated in the books. 
It is, in fact the intellect itself in its fundamental form, is much 
older than the reason, and is the parent of all the later faculties 
of abstraction and reflection. 




CHAPTER XXII. 

INTUITIVE PERCEPTION. 

It is only under the guidance of the intellectual faculty that the first step 
in this direction can be taken. The means necessary to be employed differ 
so widely from the ends that intellectual foresight can alone insure their 
adoption even in the simplest cases. The acts really required are so wholly 
unlike those which would be required if the end were directly sought, that 
a highly developed rational faculty is demanded in all beings that are capa- 
ble of performing them. When a being, endowed with desires to be satis- 
fied, is made acquainted with the existence of a desirable object, it is 
immediately prompted to move, or to put forth efforts, in the direction of 
that object. To such a being, another, desiring the same object, that 
should turn away from it and commence making adjustments in other 
objects lying about, would, to use the language of fable, appear extremely 
stupid. It would be an unnatural action, i. e., it would be an artificial one. 
If successful in securing the end, unattainable by direct effort, it would 
be an exercise of true art, and would involve an acquaintance with the 
principles of true science. Dynamic Sociology, II, 380. 



TTJV d TrpdjTTjv bp^v <f>affi rb fyov tfl'xeii' tiri rb rrjpeiv eavr6. DlOGENES 

LAERTIUS : Zeno, 52. 

Nulla virtus potest prior hac (nempe conatu sese conservandi) concipi. 
SPINOZA : Ethica, Pars IV, Propositio XXII. 

Die Nahrung muss daher aufgesucht, ausgewahlt werden, von dem Punkt 
an, wo das Thier dem Ei oder Mutterleibe, in welchem es erkenntnisslos 
vegetirte, sich entwunden hat. Dadurch wird hier die Bewegung auf 
Motive und wegen dieser die Erkenntniss nothwendig, welche also eintritt als 
ein auf dieser Stufe der Objektivation des Willens erfordertes Hiilfsmittel, 
MXavn, zur Erhaltung des Individuums und Fortpflanzung des Geschlechts. 
Sie tritt hervor, reprasentirt durch das Gehirn oder ein grosseres Ganglion, 
eben wie jede andere Bestrebung oder Bestimmung des sich objektivirenden 
Willens durch ein Organ reprasentirt ist, d. h. fiir die Vorstellung sich als 
ein Organ darstellt. SCHOPENHAUER : Welt als Wille, I, 179. 

Selbst der Verstand der Thiere wird durch die Noth bedeutend gestei- 
gert, so dass sie in schwierigen Fallen Dinge leisten, iiber die wir erstaunen: 



148 Objective Factors. 

z. B. fast alle berechnen, class es sicherer ist, nicht zu fliehen, wann sie sich 
ungesehen glauben : daher liegt der Hase still in der Furche des Feldes 
und lasst den Jager dicht an sich vorbeigehen ; Insekten, wenn sie nicht 
entrinnen konnen, stellen sich todt u. s. f. Genauer kann man diesen Ein- 
fluss kennen lernen durch die specielle Selbstbildungsgeschichte des Wolfes, 
unter dem Sporn der grossen Schwierigkeit seiner Stellung in civilisirten 
Europa : sie ist zu finden im zweiten Briefe des vortrefflichen Buches von 
Leroy, Lettres sur I" 1 intelligence et la perfectibilite des animaux. Gleich 
darauf folgt, im dritten Briefe, die hohe Schule des Fuchses, welcher, in 
gleich schwieriger Lage, viel geringere Korperkrafte hat, die bei ihm durch 
grossern Verstand ersetzt sind, der aber doch erst durch den bestandigen 
Kampf mit der Noth einerseits und der Gefahr andererseits, also unter dem 
Sporn des Willens, den hohen Grad von Schlauheit erreicht, welcher ihn, 
besonders im Alter, auszeichnet. SCHOPENHAUER: Welt als Wille, II, 
248-249. 

It is the peculiarity of the main branch of the intellectual 
- faculty, intuition, that it was developed under the spur of 

strong feeling or passion, i.e., of desire. It was a product of 
outgrowth from this as the main trunk of the mind, of 



which intellect may be considered a branch. It came as a last 
Resort to the assistance of the psychic force in its effort to 
secure the chief ends of being. As these chief ends are sus- 
tenance, safety, and reproduction, it is the desires which lead 
to these ends that are strongest and that therefore mainly call 
out this method for their satisfaction. The several stages 
attained in the development of this faculty, above those of 
mere exploration and simple animal intuition, go by different 
names. In speaking of their manifestation in animals the 
terms sagacity and cunning are commonly used, although both 
these terms are also applied to men. Among the definitions 
of "sagacious" in the Century Dictionary we find: "Keenly 
perceptive ; discerning, as by some exceptionally developed or 
extraordinary natural power . . . having keen practical sense," 
etc. One finds no attempt to analyze these terms. They are 
regarded as simple, and are really well understood by every 
one. The intellectual act which they describe is as direct or 
unrrrediated as perception or Anschauung. It consists, as 



/ 
Jx^Ir-*C , 

Intuitive Perception. 149 

does the simpler intuition, of a perception of relations of 
resistance, direction, etc., implies cognition of properties and 
forces, and always connects these with utility, i.e., is always 
practical. 

In the cases considered in the last chapter the properties 
and relations involved are those of inanimate objects, but in 
sagacity and cunning they are largely those of other organisms 
whose activities are conceived as uniform under like circum- 
stances. Where this quality is exercised in the interest of 
safety, in escaping danger, the degree of penetration is usually, 
but not always, lower than when exercised in the interest of 
sustentation or reproduction. Creatures in which it is not de- 
veloped have no means of insuring safety except in direct flight 
from the source of danger, but in some the modes of escape 
become indirect. When pursued by dogs certain birds, as the 
ruffed grouse (Bonasa umbellus\ simply fly into trees, perceiv-^ 
ing that dogs do not climb. They continue flying if flushed 
by men. The pinnated grouse habitually hides ("skulks") in 
the grass and displays great power of assuming invisible 
attitudes. I once saw one of these birds alight on an almost 
barren spot between two plowed areas. Proceeding to the 
place I searched during fifteen minutes in the immediate vicin- 
ity, scanning the ground carefully. At last the reflection of 
light from its eye betrayed it to my view, and I could then see 
that the entire bird was in plain sight and was so near that I 
killed it with my gun-barrel. I had stepped over it several 
times. Hares will pretend to follow a hedge, but finally go 
through it and return past their pursuers on the other side. 
The habits of various birds and animals of the gregarious kinds 
in appointing sentinels, flying in triangles, etc., are familiar 
examples. 

The pursuit of food by herbivorous and granivorous animals 
usually calls this faculty very slightly into exercise, or not at 
all, but carnivorous animals display it in a high degree. They 
know, as we say, what their victims will do under given circum- 



150 Objective Factors. 

stances and devise means to prevent their escape. Stealth 
and slyness in approaching them, advantage taken of the time 
and place of attack, are among the commoner modes in which 
they manifest their cunning. The fox is usually taken as the 
type of such animals, and similar traits in men gain for them 
the name of being "foxy," while to this whole class of acts 
the term "vulpinism" is sometimes applied. 

But it is in connection with the function of reproduction 
that this quality is probably called forth in the most effective 
mariner. This may seem a surprising statement, but anyone 
who has read Darwin's chapters on sexual selection as an 
element in the "descent of man" cannot fail to realize its 
truth. Here it is no longer an effort to outwit other animals 
much inferior in this power. It is necessary to measure swords 
with others of the same species and the faculty is sharpened to 
the utmost extent. The rivalry of the males for the possession 
of the females is of the most intense nature. Not only must 
they understand the ways of their own sex, but they must 
cater to the caprices of the females. Only a small proportion 
can at best succeed. The greater number in most species are 
doomed to failure and celibacy. The instinct is the strongest 
of all passions. The prize is infinitely great and the effort 
correspondingly supreme. Every art is called into play. 
Every quality of attraction and fascination is displayed. Rivals 
must not only be discomfited in open battle, they must be 
circumvented in secret intrigue. Along therefore with the 
development of strength and weapons to overcome antagonists, 
and of size, beauty, and grace to charm the females there goes 
an especial and rapid development of physic power to secure 
in indirect ways what is unattainable in direct ways. It is such 
facts that have led me to suspect, as stated in Chap. XIV, that 
brain development may be regarded as a true secondary sexual 
V character, belonging primarily to males, like tusks, antlers, 

gaudy tail-feathers, and superior size, but reflected, as many 
such are, in a feebler manner in the female anatomy. 



Intuitive Perception. 151 

But in the females also, besides the same efforts as the males 
to obtain food, a certain mental power of an indirect kind is 
exercised in the course of these courtships. The forms of 
refusal are manifold and require skill. During the greater 
part of the life of any female animal the attentions of the 
males are intolerable while their desires are uninterrupted. 
Something more than brute force is required to prevent 
violence being done to nature. For this numerous arts are 
resorted to, and cunning devices contrived. But even at the 
proper time her preferences must be respected and unwelcome 
suitors must be successfully thwarted in their persistent efforts. 
To accomplish all this involves the practice of innumerable 
wiles and strategems. She becomes coy, artful, and deceptive. 

To this may properly be added the influence of parental care 
in developing the intuitive faculty, and here it expends itself 
almost exclusively on the female. Usually, it is true, the 
mother knows no better way than direct open attack upon any- 
thing that threatens to harm her offspring and relies on vio- 
lence and fury to frighten enemies even a hundred fold her 
match in physical strength. But this is usually accompanied 
by the device, aided by special muscular development, of as- 
suming a formidable mien by the erection of hairs or the ruf- 
fling of feathers. The most important of these modes of 
protecting offspring, however, is the wholly indirect one of 
feigning. Almost all birds and many mammals habitually feign 
lameness on the approach of an enemy, and thus seek, usually 
with success, to decoy the enemy into a fruitless pursuit of 
themselves until far away from the spot where the young ones 
are being kept. There is great diversity in these evolutions 
of the female, and although, like most of the other acts of this 
general class among animals, they come at length to constitute 
true instincts, still their development has involved cerebral 
modifications in the general direction of cephalization and in 
the special direction of building up coordinating convolutions 
of the class now under consideration. 



152 Objective Factors. 

It is only in some of the mentally highest animals, especially 
domestic dogs, elephants, and a few horses, that the clearest 
cases of true sagacity are to be found. Anecdotes relating to 
such cases, often unreliable, but too numerous and common to 
be ignored, are familiar to everyone. How far the principle 
has been carried in other wild animals than the elephant it is 
not easy to learn. The following experience of my own may 
be recorded for what it is worth : In the summer of 1875 while 
making botanical collections in Rabbit Valley on Fremont 
River, Utah, the camp was several times invaded by coyotes 
(the common prairie wolf, Cants latrans) during the absence of 
myself and my assistant, and these animals would howl round 
us nights, sometimes approaching quite closely. I finally set 
my fowling piece, both barrels loaded with buckshot, in a gulch 
among the sagebrush a hundred yards from the tent, attaching 
a piece of fresh meat to a string twenty yards long, which at 
the opposite end passed round the stem of a bush and was tied 
to both triggers. The least jerk on the string would fire off 
the gun which was carefully aimed in the direction of, and a 
little over, the meat. The next morning tracks were seen all 
about the place, but meat, string, and gun were untouched. 
The second morning I found the meat gone and the string 
bitten off. The meat had been dragged six inches toward the 
gun, as shown by the mark it made in the loose alkaline soil, 
and the string was slack. The gun had not been discharged. 
I renewed the meat and reset the gun, and the third night I 
heard the report of the gun in the night. It was moonlight 
and I went to the spot as quickly as possible, but as no dead 
wolves were to be found I left matters till morning when I 
found that the operation of the previous night had been repeated, 
but that by some accident the string had been pulled and the 
gun discharged, probably without injury to the animal, as the 
string now lay out of range. I continued for several nights to 
repeat the experiment with somewhat varying results, but did 
not succeed in killing any wolves. The tracks showed that on 



Intuitive Perception. 153, 

the first night they had traversed the length of the string and 
around the gun, evidently exploring the situation thoroughly 
and acting upon the knowledge they possessed. 

Quite recently I have had an almost equally interesting ex- 
perience in trying to entrap a wary rat that found its way into 
my cellar. After my most ingenious devices had failed and I 
had nearly given up the attempt, I succeeded, as it would seem, 
by very lack of precaution, the animal perhaps going to the 
length of supposing that nothing that I made no attempt to 
conceal could be attended with danger. 

The faculty of cunning or sagacity manifests itself in a variety 
of modes depending on the animal, the circumstances, etc., and 
language seeks to express these by numerous words with dif- 
ferent shades of meaning. The terms most commonly applied 
to animals, most of them also applicable to men, are : sly, art- 
ful, knowing, wily, crafty, subtle, adroit, etc., besides the regular 
adjectives cunning and sagacious. The general homogeneity, 
however, of all these terms is obvious, and the central idea 
which they embody is that of indirection. They have a com- 
mon object, that of successful effort to satisfy desire, and a 
common method, that of taking advantage of perceived relations. 
But the intellectual act is simple, and may at this stage be called 
intuitive perception. 

It may now be studied at a slightly more advanced stage, as 
manifested by man. Without wishing to imply that there is. 
any generic difference between animal and human intuition, 
but merely in deference to the prevailing opinion that man is 
especially a rational being, I will call the latter intuitive reason. 



^i 
tT 



Q/ 

jr 
j** 

' 



X 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

INTUITIVE REASON. 

Under the law of Natural Selection, everything is an advantage which 
serves to protect individuals from destruction from outer enemies, both 
organic and inorganic, or which enables them better to secure the means 
of subsistence. A race of large apes living in the vast forests of Central 
Africa or tropical Asia, where lions, tigers, leopards, and many other large 
and ferocious carnivora abound, would be the constant prey of these beasts, 
and especially liable to have their young carried off and devoured, thus 
rendering the existence of the species precarious. Lacking most of the 
means of defense, as well as of escape necessary to prevent destruction 
from such creatures, the only substitute possible for these is increased 
sagacity or cunning in outwitting their enemies. But increased sagacity 
<an only come of increased brain-mass in relation to size of body. These 
creatures must have constantly found themselves "put to their wits' end" 
to devise means of preventing such attacks, and we seem fully justified in 
supposing that, from the recurrence of such efforts, in which bodily effi- 
ciency was not, and mental efficiency was, solely relied on, the development 
of the cerebral lobes went on rapidly under the law of direct adaptation. 
But, from the increased protection thus rendered both to adults and to 
offspring, the number of the latter enabled to survive was increased, and 
these inherited the increased brain-power of their parents, and again trans- 
mitted it, with an additional increment, to their offspring. 

In addition to this negative influence, which was perhaps the strongest, 
there was also the positive influence exerted in the same direction in the 
struggles of these creatures for the means of subsistence. The discon- 
tinuance of their arboreal habits put a vast amount of their natural food 
beyond their reach. The rich nuts that hung from the branches of tall 
trees, the dates and other delicious fruits of the palm, the plantain, and 
the banana, must now be watched till, ripened by time, they fall to the 
ground, if happily the lesser monkeys, the squirrels, and the bears have not 
already devoured them all. These losses must be made up. This can 
only be done by increased cunning; and here, again, the direct impulse 
to further brain-development is exerted. From these two influences acting 
in the same direction, aided by natural selection, the entire amount of 
cerebral increase, with its corresponding cranial enlargement, necessary 
to bridge over the chasm between the true ape and the true man, between 



Intuitive Reason. 155 

the highest animal and the lowest human brain, can be readily accounted 
for without exceeding the time-limits within which geology requires this 
differentiation to have taken place. Dynamic Sociology, I, 428-429. 

Diesen letzten Schritt in der Ausdehnung und Vervollkommnung des 
Gehirns, und damit in der Erhohung der Erkenntnisskrafte, thut die Natur, 
wie alle iibrigen, bloss in folge der erhohten Bediirfnisse, also zum Dienste 
des Willens. Was dieser im Menschen bezweckt und erreicht, ist zwar im 
Wesentlichen dasselbe und nicht mehr, als was auch im Thiere sein 
Ziel ist : Ernahrung und Fortpflanzung. Aber durch die Organisation des 
Menschen wurden die Erfordernisse zur Erreichung jenes Ziels so sehr 
vermehrt, gesteigert und specificirt, dass, zur Erreichung des Zwecks, eine 
ungleich betrachtlichere Erhohung des Intellekts, als die bisherigen Stufen 
darboten, nothwendig, oder wenigstens das leichteste Mittel war. Da nun 
aber der Intellekt, seinem Wesen zufolge, ein Werkzeug von hochst viel- 
seitigem Gebrauch und auf die verschiedenartigsten Zwecke gleich anwend- 
bar ist ; so konnte die Natur, ihrem Geist der Sparsamkeit getreu, alle 
Forderungen der so mannigfach gewordenen Bediirfnisse nunmehr ganz 
allein durch ihn decken. SCHOPENHAUER : Welt als Wille, II, 316-317. 

For then they glorie, then they boaste, and cracke that they haue plaied 
the men in deede, when they haue so ouercommen, as no other liuing 
creature but onely man could : that is to saye, by the mighte and puisaunce 
of wit. For with bodily strength (say they) beares, lions, boores, wulfes, 
dogges, and other wild beastes do fight. And as the moste part of them 
do passe vs in strength and fierce courage, so in wit and reason we be much 
stronger than they all. THOMAS MORE : Utopia, pp. 133-134. 

If persons are helped in their worldly career by their virtues, so are they, 
and perhaps quite as often, by their vices : by servility and sycophancy, 
by hard-hearted and close-fisted selfishness, by the permitted lies and tricks 
of trade, by gambling speculations, not seldom by downright knavery. 
JOHN STUART M.ILL : Chapters on Socialism. 

L'esprit est toujours la dupe du coeur. LA ROCHEFOUCAULD : Maxime 
102. 

While cunning and sagacity are attributes of both animals 
and men, shrewdness anr] t.a.r.t._^re generally limited to the latter. 
They represent a somewhat higher stage of development of the 
same faculty of mind. They are usually, though not necessarily, 
applied to human acts that relate to sustentation, especially in 



156 Objective Factors. 

its derivative forms. The pursuit of subsistence, which is 
direct in animals and the lowest human types, early becomes 
indirect in the social state. Instead of pursuing, seizing and 
devouring prey, or searching, finding, and eating the vegetable 
products of the earth, man soon acquired the habit of seeking 
opportunities for securing permanent supplies of subsistence, a 
step which is indeed taken through the aid of instincts by many 
animals. But with man in the social state, however primitive, 
j^ foresight was exercised, which is itself a form of the intuitive 
y faculty, and the habit of making provision for the future arose. 
_ ^7 / This had the immediate effect to render his wants unlimited by 
his immediate appetite. The consequence was that his desire 
for the means of subsistence, instead of being periodical, became 
continous and the pursuit of this end was incessant. Other 
collateral wants also arose as the necessary concomitants of 
social existence, especially in varying degrees those of clothing 
and shelter. A crude esthetic sentiment must have also been 
very early developed, for no tribe of savages has yet been found 
so low as not to be fond of ornaments, however grotesque, and 
where clothing was not needed decorations were demanded and 
sought with zeal. Other objects of desire multiplied them- 
selves and their possession became an end of effort. Slowly 
the notion of property came into being and in acquiring this, 
as history shows, the larger share of all human energy has been 
absorbed. The ruling passion has from a time long anterior to 
any recorded annals always been proprietary acquisition. Pari 
passu with the development of this passion there also proceeded 
the development of that faculty which was most potent in 
securing its gratification. Both the passion and the means of 
satisfying it were conditions to the development of society itself, 
and rightly viewed they have also been leading factors in civiliza- 
tion. But here, as man must cope with man, a struggle 
went on similar, only on a higher intellectual plane, to that 
which goes on in the animal world, a veritable struggle for 
existence. 



Intuitive Reason. 157 



1 In this great struggle brute force played a diminishing 
(^ajidnimc^an increasing one. Low cunning and animal sagacity, 
though very prominent, were more and more supplanted by 
more refined and subtle manifestations of the same psychic 
principle. This advance was greatly accelerated by the growth 
of institutions and the establishment of codes of conduct requi- 
site to life in collectivity. The rude animal methods were 
intolerable, and by natural selection, if not otherwise, society 
discarded them. Something less objectionable and more refined 
must control the relations of men in the social state. But 
while social regulation grew stronger human acquisitiveness 
strengthened also. With the legal protection of property its 
desirability increased and every art was resorted to in the uni- 
versal effort to obtain it. No combination can be conceived of 
better calculated to call out, develop, and perfect a mental 
faculty than the prizes and temptations of the social state. 

In Dynamic Sociology (Chap. VII, Vol. I, pp. 497-597) 
I have discussed somewhat exhaustively the law and the 
various modes of acquisition that prevail in the social world. 
At present it is only the peculiar principle involved in all this 
that it is sought to detect. The faculty of intuitive perception 
which was seen to prevail in the higher animals has now 
adapted itself to man, to society, and to regulative institutions. 
The pursuit of subsistence has become the pursuit of the 
means of subsistence, and of enjoyment in general. Animal 
^/activity has become industrial activity, and the general term 
^applied to industrial activity is business. The great aim and 
object of life is success in business. Social regulation renders 
the animal methods unsuccessful and human methods are the 
ones chiefly employed. But the psychic principle remains the 
same. 

To mere subsistence, i. e., just so much as is necessary to 
life, considered as the end of effort, there must now be added 
a great number of things that are not required for that end. 
Everyone knows how in legal interpretation the word "neces- 



158 Objective Factors. 

saries" has expanded, and how it is varied even in the same 
country according to the social standing of the individual. 
But while things that were not necessary in one age become so 
in another, and those not necessary for one class are considered 
necessary for another, there are innumerable objects which no 
law will declare necessaries that are nevertheless desired even 
more strongly than many that are really necessary to life 
luxuries, refinements, indulgences. An immense number of 
new desires unknown in the lower stages were created by 
social existence and civilized life. These include all those 
enumerated in Chapters IX and X, and many not mentioned 
there. Besides the heightened and intensified forms of the 
love of acquisition growing out of the struggle to preserve life, 
there had been developed the higher desires to which the 
reproductive instincts gave rise, including the passion of individ- 
ual love, and the emotions arising through family relation- 
ships. Add to these the esthetic, moral, and intellectual 
cravings, all vehemently asserting themselves and demanding 
satisfaction. 

The indirect method which best insured success in business 
is perhaps most frequently expressed by the word sJirewdness. 
The relations perceived are more numerous and complicated 
than those for which cunning is sufficient. They are largely 
the acts of men and presuppose a knowledge of human nature. 
It is astonishing to observe how little the majority really know 
of human nature and how easy it is to take advantage of this 
general ignorance. The prevailing optimism is the chief ele- 
ment that blinds most persons in these matters, and acts, which 
to the good observer are obviously done from purely selfish 
motives, are so done as to produce the general belief in their 
complete disinterestedness. This explains the surprising gul- 
libility of the general public, so obvious that it is common to 
speak of an actual "love of humbug." A great part of all that 
is said and done in society proceeds from this self-interest and 
requires to be interpreted and corrected by this equation. 



Intuitive Reason. 159 

Besides the suppressio veri and suggestio falsi, there are all the 
other arts of speech which have given rise to the French 
proverb, that language was given us to conceal our thoughts. 1 
There is also the art of silence, the reticent, non-committal 
mood. It is often true from the standpoint of self-interest that 
where speech would be silver or some baser metal, silence is 
golden. Nothing is more common than for mediocre persons 
to possess the shrewdness of knowing that silence will gain 
them a reputation for wisdom. 2 The assumption of a dignity 
they do not possess secures to many what volubility would de- 
prive them of. Such persons, while they may really know very 
little, know this one thing and put this knowledge to the best 
use. This suggests the important fact so generally overlooked 
by the modern philosophers who argue for the fullest play in 
society of the law of natural survival, that fitness to survive 
does not, as they maintain, depend upon intelligence, but upon 
shrewdness, which may be accompanied with very little in- 
tellTgenceT It is the faculty which we are considering that has 
at its variVis stages secured success in life, and it is the same 
that insures, success in business and in all the enterprises of 
civilized mei\ It is an entirely different thing from in- 
telligence, and\except in one of its phases, hereafter to be con- 
sidered, it is^theyowest and kast reallvsujomaiL attribute of 
mind. 

Among the derivative desires that have grown up in society 
the most powerful is doubtless ambition. This was especially 
developed under the influence of government, which was one 
of the earliest of human institutions. It here takes the form 

1 Us ne se servent de la pensee que pour autoriser leurs injustices, et n'em- 
ploient les paroles que pour deguiser leurs pensees. Voltaire : Dialogue xiv. 
Le Chapon et la Poularde. GEuvres Completes, Vol. XXXVI, p. 100. 

2 Stultus tacebit ? pro sapiente habebitur. Publius Syrus. 

(Let a fool hold his tongue and he will pass for a sage. Lyman's Translation, 
No. 914. The Moral Sayings of Publius Syrus, from the Latin. By D. Lyman, 
Jun., Cleveland, 1856.) 

Taciturnitas stulto homini pro sapientia est. Publius Syrus. 

(Taciturnity is the dunce's wisdom. Lyman's Translation, No. 931.) 



160 Objective Factors. 

of love of power and its various manifestations have played a 
principal role in the history of man. Coarse and simple in 
despotic governments, therefore making little use of the in- 
direct method, it has been curbed and restricted by its op- 
pressed victims until in modern more or less representative 
governments it has been compelled to employ this method 
almost exclusively. It is an excellent illustration of the prin- 
ciple now under consideration on account of the great number 
and subtle character of the forms it has assumed. There is no 
better subject upon which to exercise the pure intellect than 
what is called a people. Unthinking and unorganized they are 
easily managed and incapable, except in extreme cases, of per- 
~ ceiving the motives of rulers, still less of acting concertedly to 
thwart their schemes. The astute monarch or politician always 
seeks to make it believed that he is acting for their good, and 
enough will usually credit him to prevent the action of the re- 
mainder. The politicians and demagogues of any country are 
simply the persons who combine with an unscrupulous love of 
power or desire for emolument from the public revenues, the 
highest development of the animal side of the intellect. They 
are the ones who, from the strictly biological standpoint, are the 
fittest to survive in society. Those therefore who teach sociol- 
ogy from the laws of biology should not only treat them as the 
highest types but should welcome them as the most perfect 
examples of social development. It is thoroughly inconsistent 
in this school of philosophers to denounce this class as they 
do, since if there are any who deserve to be here and to be let 
alone they are the ones. 

Different from, and really higher than the tricky, wire-pulling 
politician, and more nearly on the level of the ambitious but 
discreet and prudent ruler or statesman, is the successful 
diplomat. Diplomacy is a typical form of the original in- 
tellectual faculty in one of its highest stages. Whether it take 
the shape of Machiavellian intrigue and disregard of truth and 
principle, or be conducted honorably and with patriotic motives, 



Intuitive Reason. 161 

it involves intuitive penetration of a high order and, ably em- 
ployed, proves one of the greatest elements of national success 
and safety. It need not be said that diplomacy is also ex- 
tensively practiced by individuals in all the minor affairs of life. 

One other application of this principle may profitably be 
mentioned. The encroachment of tribe upon tribe, and the 
desire of the ruling class to extend territorial boundaries, made 
war one of the first concomitants of the social condition, and it 
continues to be a leading feature of human history. Although 
depending chiefly on brute force it soon called in the aid of in- 
tellectual direction. The particular form which this here 
assumed goes by the name of strategy. The effect of numbers, 
bravery, and superior weapons may be greatly increased by 
judicious selection in the time and method of attack. When 
an inferior army out-generals and defeats a superior one, it is 
because mind has been at work, and the quality of mind by 
which the result has been attained is precisely the one that 
secures success in business, in politics, or in diplomacy. 
Shrewdness, tact, policy, demogogy, diplomacy, strategy, are 
only so many applications of the one principle, only so many 
varying manifestations of the primary intellectual faculty under 
correspondingly changed circumstances. 

If the name intuitive perception may appropriately be^given 
to those manifestations of this faculty in animals and the lower / 
types of men, that of intuitive reason will properly apply to the J> f 
more involved process which accomplishes the same purposes^/ 
in the higher types of men when dealing with the complicated 
conditions that society creates. It is still a perception of re- 
lations, chiefly of resistance and direction, but the relations are 
more remote and obscure, more complex and recondite, and not 
only must the degree of penetration be much greater but the 
tortuous avenues through which it is necessary to peer, prolong 
somewhat the act of intuitive vision and raise it to the grade of 
a sort of reasoning process which justifies a new name, pro- 
vided the central truth be not lost from view that the difference 
is wholly one of degree and not at all of kind. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

PRINCIPLE OF DECEPTION. 

This law [the principle of deception] arises with the development of the 
intellectual faculty, and, properly viewed, it constitutes the essential form in 
which that faculty everywhere manifests itself, although this truth is masked 
by the great variety existing among the objects toward which intellectual 
operations are directed. Dynamic Sociology, I, 501. 

The normal operations of the intellect, as distinguished from those of the 
emotions, and whereby it accomplishes so much greater results, are essen- 
tially of this character, so that it may be said that invention is deception. 
By it the forces of nature are ensnared and circumvented. Language itself 
enforces this truth. The methods of art are artifices, and its mode of pro- 
cedure is artful. Machines are machinations. Primitive man had early 
to learn that to live he must deceive, and, although this principle has never 
found expression in any code of ethics, it has found unceasing application 
throughout history. Dynamic Sociology, I, 502. 

Notwithstanding the fine array of maxims so constantly quoted to en- 
courage honesty in the mutual dealings of individuals, scarcely a transaction 
is ever consummated without some form of deception having been practiced. 
What is understood as the ability to " drive a bargain " is nothing more or 
less than a certain species of cunning, in making the facts appear in some 
way different from what they are, whereby others are somewhat deceived 
and beguiled into paying for an article, perhaps not more than it is worth, 
but more than they otherwise would have done. It may not be too much 
to say that very few dealers who gain their livelihood in trade can afford to 
be strictly honest in all things according to the received standards of honesty. 
It is a fair subject for doubt whether such a course would not in many cases 
be ruinous to their interests . . . Every one expects every one else to 
practice a certain amount of what is thought by each in his own case to be 
justifiable deception, and one who should fail to do so would scarcely be 
adjudged possessed of the full complement of intellectual powers, or, as it 
is called, wits. For so insensibly does open falsehood shade off into the 
mere exercise of the normal degree of intelligence that no absolute line of 
demarkation can be drawn. Dynamic Sociology, I, 511-512. 

Complete truthfulness is one of the rarest of virtues. Even those who 
regard themselves as absolutely truthful are daily guilty of over-statements 




Principle of Deception 



and of under-statements>> Exaggeration is almost universal. The perpetual 
use of the word " very," where the occasion does not call for it, shows how 
widely diffused and confirmed is the habit of misrepresentation. And this 
habit sometimes goes along with the loudest denunciations of falsehood. 
HERBERT SPENCER ; Principles of Ethics, I, p. 400. 

L'hypocrisie est un hommage que le vice rend a la vertu. LA ROCHE- 
FOUCAULD : Maxime 218. 

Nos vertus ne sont le plus souvent que des vices ddguises. LA ROCHE- 
FOUCAULD. 

Ce que le monde nomme vertu n'est d'ordinaire qu'un fantome forme' par 
nos passions, a qui on donne un nom honnete pour faire impundment ce 
qu'on veut. Ibid. 

And, after all, what is a lie ? 'Tis but 
The truth in masquerade ; and I defy 
Historians, heroes, lawyers, priests, to put 
A fact without some leaven of a lie. 

BYRON : Don Juan, Canto xi, Stanza 37. 

It cannot have escaped the intelligent reader that there is in-^ 
volved in all the mental acts discussed in the last two chapters*' / 
a form of deception, and that this constitutes the kernel of thej V 
matter and the true key to their successfulness. The intuitive 
faculty, so far as it has been hitherto considered, expends itself 
chiefly upon sentient beings and is directed to securing advan- 
tage to the agent at the expense of other feeling creatures. 
As no feeling ^creature desires this to happen it is necessary 
that the act be performed against the inclination of those that 
are the losers by it. These latter must in some way be pre- 
vented from knowing what its effect is to be, otherwise they 
would resist or escape it. This idea lurks in all such words as 
cunning, crafty, artful, wily, arch, tricky, sly, astute, designing, 
intriguing, smart, shrewd, etc. There is often little in the 
etymology of a word, but sometimes it well illustrates the 
history of an idea. The word shrewd is a good example of 
the latter case. It is derived from shrew, which originally 



164 Objective Factors. 

meant a wicked or evil person, sometimes the devil. Its early 
use was in the sense of evil malignant, or malicious, and its 
present milder meaning was only gradually acquired. The 
French word that nearly corresponds to it, shows its origin still 
more clearly. It is malin. The American use of the word 
smart, which is nearly the same as the English clever, seems to 
have arisen from the original sense of sharp, cutting or pun- 
gent, qualities which produce the sensation called a smart. 
In fact the word sharp applied to persons is rapidly passing 
into the same sense, and from it has been formed the deriva- 
tive noun sharper which conveys no other idea. 

The cunning of the fox and other animals is chiefly a mode 
of deceiving the creatures that constitute their prey. In such 
cases the animals deceived are less sagacious than those that 
circumvent and capture them, but the mother bird that feigns 
being wounded furnishes an instance in which deception 
practiced by a mentally inferior creature is often successful 
against the cunning of a mentally superior one. In fact so 
much is deception the essence of the principle that as a rule 
the greater the deception the greater the success. 1 

1 Mr. Spencer in the excellent treatment of the subject of " veracity" which he 
gives in Chapter IX of the first volume of his Principles of Ethics, has greatly 
strengthened this point of view from the side of primitive peoples. He seems 
.somewhat surprised to find that, though not according to any fixed rule, the 
simpler minded hill tribes are the most veracious, and the more intelligent coast 
tribes add untruthfulness to their other vices. He even shows that the higher 
races, including his own, display this quality to a shameful degree, especially in 
their dealings with inferior ones. All this is what should be expected if deception^ 
s the essential element in intellectual exercise. This is clearly brought out in the 
case of the people of Uganda among whom " a successful liar is considered a 
smart, clever fellow " ; of the Central Americans who say of a cheat : " what a 
clever fellow" ; of the Philippine Islanders who do not "appear to regard lying 
as a sin, but rather as a legitimate, though cunning, convenience " ; and still more 
clearly from the opposite point of view by the Sowrahs, who " do not know how 
to tell a lie. They are not sufficiently civilized to be able to invent " ; while " a 
Mahar [Parwari] is such a fool that he will tell the truth without any reason 
at all." 

In seeking for the cause which determines the relative veracity of races, he 
arrives at the conclusion " that it is the presence or absence of despotic rule which 



Principle of Deception. 165 

In the various modes of acquisition pursued by men in the 
social state the principle of deception plays an important role. 
The powerful influence of the optimistic habit of thought, 
which is the latest form of the primitive illusion of the desires, 
or assertion of the will, blinds nearly everyone to the great 
prevalence of deception among civilized men, and makes the 
unthinking masses easy victims to the smaller class who learn 
to depend upon this method for improving their condition. 
The almost universal end pursued by men is riches, wealth, 
property, competency, or by whatever name it may be called. 
Poverty has become a disgrace and is so feared and dreaded 
that any means of avoiding it will be resorted to. Therefore 
those who have little or nothing exhaust every resource to 
make it appear that they have all they desire. In fact it may 
be remarked here, that notwithstanding the carnival of desires 
that is held inside of every human being, very little of it all 
comes into view on account of the systematic deception con- 
stantly practiced to prevent its observance. No one wants 
others to know that he is suffering, especially that he has 
wants that he cannot supply, and therefore those that one 
meets who seem to be fairly swimming in an embarras de 
richesses may be at the same moment in the very throes of 
agony which they adroitly conceal. It is not always want, 
poverty, or impecuniosity. It may be domestic trouble, shame 
over some act known to be against the accepted social code, 
fear of detection in something that would be ruin if found out. 

leads to prevalent falsehood or prevalent truth," and shows with considerable 
force that lying is a normal result of intimidation and abuse, as is well illustrated 
by the East African slaves of whom Livingstone says : " One can scarcely induce 
a slave to translate anything truly : he is so intent on thinking of what will 
please." I was struck by the same fact among the freedmen of the South at 
the close of the civil war which resulted in their emancipation. There is no 
Tdoubt that liberty inspires truthfulness as it inspires other manly qualities, while 
I slavery and tyranny are generally demoralizing. But this only goes to prove that 
oeception in every form is resorted to as an instrument of protection from danger, 
and is the normal and legitimate exercise of the primal intellect which was 
developed for no other purpose. 



X 



Y ViM 1 66 Objective Factors. 

f J 




The general concealment of emotion of every kind belongs to 
category. The display of feeling is a mark of weakness 
and tells against success. The feigning of indifference to 
everything is found to be policy. One who seems dejected is 
classed as deficient. It is human nature to lift the strong, and 
neglect or crush the weak. This seems a strong indictment 
but it is true. Upon what basis does it rest ? Doubtless it is 
vaguely felt that failure is the result of inferiority. One who 
cannot gain a livelihood is assumed to lack the requisites of 
personal character for doing so. No one wishes to expend 
energy on anything that is unworthy. The possession of a 
fair share of this world's goods has come to be the general 
mark and measure of character. Carrying it a step further 
back, since it is a certain mental quality that succeeds in 
obtaining and retaining wealth, it is evident that it is this 
quality that is popularly taken as the criterion of worth. 
There is an instinctive feeling that the intuitive faculty which 
insures success is the one great element of value in human 
character, and it is respected accordingly. 

It is this attitude of the mind toward the exercise of these 
mental qualities that has enabled them to take an even more 
prominent place in social life than they had in pre-social or 
subhuman life. Joined with the prevailing credulity, gullibility, 
and optimistic acquiescence, they grew in civilized man with 
unprecedented exuberance. The consequence is that the whole 
fabric of society is honeycombed with deception. Life in 
separate houses, rendering social contact only possible under 
circumstances favorable to concealment, favors and fosters this 
tendency. It has often been observed that where men formerly 
dwelling in the same community are by force of circumstances 
compelled to come out of their civilized habits and associate 
more in a state of nature so that all their acts and thoughts 
jire exposed, their true character thus revealed is found to be 
\entirely different from what it had been supposed to be. 
I made a study of this when in the army, camping and fighting 



Principle of Deception. 167 

on a level with my townsmen who occupied very different social 
stations at home. While some who stood at the bottom of the 
social ladder were seen to possess unexpected sterling qualities, 
others who had been rated highest proved poltroons and cow- 
ards, while still others of the latter class turned out sniveling 
grumblers. Under the far more trying circumstances of great 
hardship, suffering, and danger the golden grains of character 
are still more searchingly sifted from the dust. In civilized life"V 
this cannot be done, and what we see on the surface is no indica- / 

v_ 

tion of that which really exists. Any word, look, or act is 
likely to be a feint. Everywhere there is artifice, counterfeit, V 
simulation, disguise, sham, and imposture. This, where special 
opportunity permits, takes the more open and offensive forms 
of fraud, trickery, swindling, quackery, charlatanism, humbug, 
and jugglery. While these practises go on only in a mild form 
with the great mass of mankind they assume a malignant form 
with a large and ever present minority. These constitute the 
parasitic class of society, those who, as it is said, live by their 
wits. Social institutions favor the existence of such a class, 
and they are the ones who have most to do in framing and 
perpetuating such institutions. There is, for example, scarcely 
a doubt that if nine out of every ten members of the legal profes- 
sion were eliminated entirely from it and turned into some useful 
occupation the ends of justice would thereby be immensely the 
gainer and thousands of laborers would be added to the industrial 
pursuits. But this is the class whom the masses intrust with 
the framing of their laws, and as long as they continue to do 
so they must pay the penalty of their stupidity. It is the same 
in the whole department of exchange, although here intelligent 
cooperation would be needed to insure success. The other 
great department which abounds in parasites is that of finance, 
including the innumerable clever schemes for gaining wealth 
by the negotiation of all kinds of paper. But this by no means 
exhausts the list. Witness the so-called real estate "booms," 
stock-watering schemes, "rings," trusts, combines, "corners" 



1 68 Objective Factors. 

in grain, railroad "deals," and so on to the end. In fact there 
would be no stopping until all monopolies were included. 

These are all perfectly legitimate modes of acquisition so 
long as we consider sociology from the biological standpoint and 
admit no other than biological dynamics into the account. It 
yis the method of nature. In the animal world there is no 
other. There it is called the survival^ of^ the_fayored racesjn 
I the struggle for existence. Here it is called the law of com- 
*- 2~ P^it- 011 - Animal cunning is succeded by human ingenuity Imcf 
intuitive perception becomes intuitive reason. Both belong to 
the normal and primary intellectual faculty, both involve the 
principle of deception which is the essence of the process em- 
ployed. It is due to the biological school of sociologists to say 
that their position relative to this industrial parasitism, if it 
may be so called, unlike that relative to political parasitism 
mentioned in the last chapter, is logical, and they teach that it 
should be let alone and allowed to take its course. Those who 
by whatever method can gain most of the world's products are 
those fittest to survive and those who can obtain none deserve, 
according to the ethics of biology, to die. The worst are 
thereby weeded out of society and the best preserved, while the 
exalted faculty which makes this possible is still more highly 
developed. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

INTUITIVE JUDGMENT. 

It is very possible for impulses and intuitions to be safer than the most 
deliberate judgment. . . . Everybody knows how, on many great political 
and judicial questions, the slow detail and careful technicality of legislators 
and judges do violence to truth and justice, while the public mind has seen 
the justice of the case from the first, and suffers sore disappointment at the 
manner in which truth has been smothered under the forms of logic and of 
law. Dynamic Sociology, II, 327. 

Only a very small proportion of our actions are directed to new condi- 
tions ; experience has already determined the proper conduct in all the 
circumstances upon which our preservation and well-being most directly 
depend ; and action in these circumtances does not demand comparison and 
judgment, while it must usually be so prompt as to forbid deliberation or 
thought. The power of quick and proper action in the innumerable exigen- 
cies of ordinary life, independent of reflection, is at least equally important 

with the power to extend our field of rational action W. K. BROOKS : 

Popular Science Monthly, June, 1879 (Vol. XV, pp. 154-155). 

Experience of the order of events has shown that under certain circum- 
stances, of frequent occurrence, certain conduct is proper and conducive to 
welfare, while its opposite is hurtful. This experience being constantly 
repeated, the tendency to do the proper thing when the circumstances occur 
gradually takes the shape of an instinct, intuition, habit, or law of duty. 
Hencefoward, all persons who have the impulse which has thus been formed 
will act in the same way when the circumstances arise, but two persons who 
have not the impulse will follow their individual judgments, and may or may 
not act alike. W. K. BROOKS : Ibid.) July, 1879, p. 348. 

It is necessary to deal next with a form of intuition which 
differs in its general aspect and mode of application much more 
from what has been called intuitive reason than this differs 
from what was called intuitive perception, although it is, unlike 
the others, an exclusively human attribute. Nevertheless it 
will, I trust, be shown to the satisfaction of the reader that 



170 Objective Factors. 

this divergence is only one of form and application and not of 
essence. Intuitive judgment does not differ greatly from what 
is probably the most commonly accepted sense of the word 
intuition. If primitive animal intuition, intuitive perception, 
and intuitive reason consist psychologically in a perception of 
relations, however simple or however involved, intuitive 
judgment may be said psychologically to consist in a percep- 
tion of truth. Truth itself, it may be said, is a relation, and so 
it is, but we saw that the relations perceived by the primitive 
intellect were not those of identity, agreement, disagreement, 
etc., such as are affirmed by an act of judgment, but relations 
of resistance, direction, velocity, distance, etc. Intuitive 
judgment does not deal with relations of this latter class, or 
with such as it is necessary to take immediate advantage of in 
guiding present movements. It is much less directly connected 
with the conative powers, and approaches more closely to the 
derivative intellectual faculties which have formed the almost 
exclusive theme of philosophy. And yet it is not the same as 
any of these. It is in no sense a deliberative, reflective faculty, 
or one of abstraction or disinterested ideation. It is not, for 
example, as some have supposed, a form of reasoning. The 
idea that it consists of the rapid or instantaneous combination 
of a long train of inferences, is one of the errors which have re- 
sulted from the inverted order in which mental phenomena 
have been studied, from beginning at the roof of the structure 
instead of at the foundations. The intellectual faculties that 
have chiefly absorbed attention are all secondary or derivative, 
and it was natural that when any other came forward for consid- 
eration it should be sought to explain it in terms of these, 
whereas in this case, the new-found attribute is really the pri- 
mary and original one from which as a main trunk the others 
have been given oft as branches. 

As a sample of this mistake of the logicians the following 
remark of Bishop Whately may be quoted, which might be 
paralleled in the writings of many others of his school. He 



Intuitive Judgment. 171 

says : " It continually happens that even long trains of reason- 
ing will flash through the mind with such rapidity that the pro- 
cess is performed unconsciously, or at least leaves no trace in 
the memory, any more than the motions of the muscles of the 
throat and mouth in speaking, or the judgments by which we 
decide as to the distances of visible objects : so that a conclu- 
sion may be supposed to be seized by intuition, which in reality 
is the result of rapid inference." (Logic, Introduction, 4.) 
In the same general line Dr. Carpenter remarks : " I have long 
recognized as a fact that judgments really grounded on a long 
succession of small experiences mostly forgotten, or perhaps 
never brought out into very distinct consciousness, often grow 
into the likeness of intuitive perceptions. I believe this to be 
the explanation of the intuitive insight thought to be char- 
acteristic of women ; and of that which is often found in ex- 
perienced practical persons who have not attended much to 
theory, nor been often called on to explain the grounds of their 
judgments. I explain in the same manner whatever truth there 
is in presentiments." (Mental Physiology, p. 486.) 

Mr. Herbert Spencer in arguing for the simplicity or psy- 
chological unity of intuitional judgments (Principles of Psy- 
chology, Vol. II, 277) carries it perhaps too far in applying 
it to the involved judgments of an engineer, but he is right in 
saying (ibid. 278, foot-note) that the common acceptation of 
the word intuition is that of "an undecomposable mental act." 
It will not be denied that the mental antecedents of most in- 
tuitions of this class are exceedingly complex, the chief con- 
tention is that the mind does not go through with any process 
of connecting these elements into a train of reasoning or 
methodical arrangement of separate inferences. It is in no 
sense a process of deduction. The data for an intuition are 
combined already in the brain into a psychological unit which 
is used as an integer and not decomposed by the intuitive act. 
In more physiological terms, the cerebral preparation for such 
an act has become constitutional, the appropriate cortical nuclei 



172 Objective Factors. 

have been previously built up by the registration of experiences, 
and the discharge is direct and immediate from these ready- 
made centers. 

While this faculty of intuitive judgment is adapted and is 
frequently applied to questions that have no direct bearing 
upon self-preservation, such for example as the truth of 
axiomatic propositions in geometry or logic, or the more 
complex relations of strength to strain in engineering, it was 
not by such exercise that its cerebral fabric was originally built 
up. These are only derivative applications of an instrument 
which was constructed for a very different purpose. That pur- 
pose, like the purpose for which intuitive perception and in- 
tuitive reason were created, was an intensely practical one and 
had to do directly with the interests of the race and its pre- 
servation and safety. The other forms of intuition that have 
been considered were calculated to direct action in the im- 
mediate present ; this form was adapted to direct action in the 
near, or more or less remote future. Besides the necessity of 
knowing what course to pursue to secure the satisfaction of a 
present desire, it became important to know what course it 
would be best to adopt in case a certain combination of cir- 
cumstances should arise. At first such combinations of cir- 
cumstances were confined to those that were known from 
repeated experience to be likely to arise, but later those were 
provided against which were of less and less frequency and 
probability, and at length a degree of adjustment was attained 
which would constitute a preparation for, or, defense against 
almost any possible combination of circumstances. It is this 
primary and practical side of the subject that has the greatest 
significance and importance to both psychology and sociology. 
And if one can once get out of the rut of the old philosophy, 
it is easy to see that this is the side which furnishes the best 
and most numerous examples. 

Men do not depend upon their reason in the ordinary affairs 
of life. They do not employ the syllogism in seeking to decide 



Intuitive Judgment. 173 

what will be the best course to adopt to insure success in any 
enterprise. They use what is popularly called "common 
sense," and this scarcely differs at all from what is here de- 
nominated intuitive judgment. One finds little in the books 
about common sense. When used, as in Reid's works, it is 
soon either restricted to some one little known application or 
diverted wholly from its primary meaning. The most that has 
been written about this faculty beyond the phase to be con- 
sidered in the next chapter relates to cases in which, as fre- 
quently happens, the labored reasoning out of a problem leads 
to erroneous conclusions which are seen to be so from the start 
by pure intuition. Elaborate judicial opinions, as is well 
known, not only often tend to obscure the subject, but actually 
befog the judge's mind, divert it from the central notions of 
justice or right involved, and lead him to decide questions 
wrongly where the truth is intuitively arrived at by others, per- 
haps by a whole people in great issues, such as the Dred Scott 
decision. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

FEMALE INTUITION. 

It is proverbial that the female mind, unaccustomed as it is, in the pres- 
ent state of society, to reason closely, passes to correct conclusions in many 
cases where the logical mind of man misses the truth after the most careful 
consideration. Dynamic Sociology, II, 327. 

Looking at women as they are known in experience, it may be said of 
them, with more truth than belongs to most generalizations on the subject, 
that the general bent of their talents is toward the practical. JOHN 
STUART MILL : Subjection of Women, p. 105. 

If the female organism is the conservative organism, to which is intrusted 
the keeping of all that has been gained during the past history of the race, 
it must follow that the female mind is a storehouse filled with the instincts, 
habits, intuitions, and laws of conduct which have been gained by past 
experience. The male organism, on the contrary, being the variable organ- 
ism, the originating element in the process of evolution, the male mind 
must have the power of extending experience over new fields, and, by 
comparison and generalization, of discovering new laws of nature, which 
.are in their turn to become rules of action, and to be added on to the series 
-of past experiences, W. K. BROOKS : Popular Science Monthly, June, 
1879 (Vol. XV, p. 154)- 

I use the expression female intuition as the title of this 
chapter in preference to that of woman s intuition, because, 
while it is of course chiefly displayed by women, I believe it 
has its roots in the subhuman stage, and that woman's in- 
tuitional nature is a direct outgrowth of the earlier and simpler 
mental characteristics of the females of many animals. It 
should, however, be admitted that there is scarcely any generic 
distinction between woman's intuition and the intuitive judg- 
ment as set forth in the preceding chapter. 

The important thing to be noted about woman's intuition 
from the modern biological standpoint is that it is a highly 
specialized development of a faculty of the mind which 



Female Intuition. 175 

originally had as its sole purpose the protection of the mother 
and offspring. It is a part of the maternal instinct, and like 
all instincts, its acuteness and subtlely are proportioned to the 
narrowness of its purpose. The power in woman of instan- 
taneous and accurate judgment as to what to do when her 
safety or that of her children is in jeopardy, was developed 
during the early history of the human race as it emerged from 
the animal into the properly human state ; its only use was to 
protect the mother and the young from such dangers as beset 
them dangers which increased -with the growth of the intel- 
lectual faculty and the dispersion of the race over the globe. 
And with the origin and progress of civilization this power has 
increased in complexity, and has ever been the safeguard of 
the family against all attacks, strifes, and abuses from whatever 
quarter. In the highest stages of enlightment it still comes 
daily and hourly into use in guarding the virtue of woman, 
detecting the infidelity of man, protecting the youth of both 
sexes from temptations and pitfalls of every kind, evading the 
wrongs of unjust husbands and cruel fathers, checking danger- 
ous financial extravagance or undue liberality in men, and in 
a thousand other ways. Upon such questions the judgments 
of women are already formed in the mind, inherited as organ- 
ized experiences of an indefinite past, with their appropriate 
cortical centers of nervous discharge constitutionally developed 
in the brain ; so that when an occasion arises no time is lost 
in reflection or deliberation. The dangers that have threatened 
woman and her helpless charges throughout all history have 
usually left her no time for these slower mental operations. 
She must act at once or all is lost ; and natural selection has 
preserved those who could thus act, so that in modern society 
it is still true, and in a far wider sense than Addison supposed, 

that 

" The woman that deliberates is lost." 

This protective quality has been referred to by some authors. 
Mr. Spencer says (Study of Sociology, p. 376): "In barbarous 



176 Objective Factors. 

times a woman who could from a movement, tone of voice, 
or expression efface, instantly detect in her savage husband 
the passion that was rising, would be likely to escape dangers 
run into by a woman less skilled in interpreting the natural 
language of feeling. Hence, from perpetual exercise of this 
power, and the survival of those having most of it, we may 
infer its establishment as a feminine faculty. Ordinarily, this 
feminine faculty, showing itself in an aptitude for guessing 
the state of mind through the external signs, ends simply in 
intuitions formed without assignable reasons ; but when, as 
happens in rare cases, there is joined with it skill in psycho- 
logical analysis, there results an extremely remarkable ability 
to interpret the mental states of others." 

We may, however, go much farther back in attempting to 
understand female intuition. In Chap. XXII it was shown rP' ,.\ 
that the intuitive perception acquired by animals in circum- ^ \ 
venting others, and especially that of the males in coping 
with others of their own species in their rivalry for the females, 
reacted to some degree upon the females themselves and thus 
saved this attribute of mind from becoming an exclusively 
secondary sexual character. It was also pointed out that in a 
somewhat modified form it was called out in the female by her 
constant vigils over her young. This latter I believe to be the 
real origin of the more fully developed female intuition now 
under consideration, and as already remarked, it is still around 
the offspring that it chiefly centers, even in developed woman. 

Its, essentially feminine character is exhibited in several 
ways. It is a leading feminine characteristic to be always on 
the defensive. The great end of female action is protection. 
With the safety of the future members of the race in her 
charge the mother has had developed a mental constitution 
which is ever on the alert to perceive and ward off the least 
danger. She never takes any risks. Non-seafaring people 
often notice that old sea captains will always choose the safer 
of two courses, even where either would seem to be perfectly 



Female Intuition. 177 

secure, and at first this apparent timidity does not seem to be in 
harmony with the known intrepidity of these hardy mariners. 
But it results from a settled rule of life always to choose when 
at sea the safest way. Now, the female mind possesses this 
quality of caution as part of its constitution, and it applies not 
merely to navigation or to any one particularly hazardous 
employment, but to everything that is done. No matter how 
secure a woman may be under any circumstances if there is 
any difference from this point of view between two courses of 
action she may be depended upon to select the one that she 
regards as the safer. I say, that she regards as such, because 
it is this supposed safety, and not necessarily her real safety, 
that determines her action. She usually bases her judgment 
on experience, and hence her course will be that which she has 
formerly pursued and found to be safe. Every one has 
observed that women will prefer to go the way they have 
already been, if safe, although there may be a really far better 
but untried way, and usually no amount of argument drawn 
from the experience of others or from the natural circum- 
stances of the case will be satisfactory to them. This mental 
constitution of the female mind manifests itself in all the 
affairs of life. Its central characteristic is extreme conserva- 
tism. All innovation is looked upon as likely to be attended 
with danger. Life is possible under existing conditions, and 
although it may be scarcely worth its cost it is better than to 
risk a change. Thus woman becomes the balance-wheel of 
society, keeping it in a steady and fixed condition of growth. 
It is for this work that woman's intuition is adapted. 

It might be supposed from this essentially conservative 
nature of woman that she would never be found figuring in 
the capacity of a reformer, since all reform implies some 
change in the existing order. The well known facts, there- 
fore, that many women are reformers, that many reforms are 
led chiefly by women, that their chief argument for political 
power is based on the claim that they would inaugurate 



178 Objective Factors. 

reforms that men will not undertake, and that in the capacity 
of reformers they are much more ardent and uncompromising 
than men, certainly seem inconsistent with the position here 
assumed. But I think it can be shown that the inconsistency 
is only apparent, and that these facts are reconcilable with true 
conservatism. Or rather, that conservatism does not alone 
describe the female attribute in its entirety. Or more accu- 
rately still, perhaps, it may be said that woman's conservatism 
is not directed toward institutions and surrounding conditions, 
but is centered on self and offspring. It is self-preservation, 
rather than the preservation of institutions that is ingrained 
in her nature, and therefore her conservatism is limited to 
those institutions which she believes to constitute personal 
safeguards. It is a fact that she is never found advocating the 
reform of anything that is held to be good in itself, however 
much it may be capable of improvement. This men are con- 
stantly doing. They are not satisfied that it should be merely 
good, better than nothing ; they insist that it shall be im- 
proved if it is capable of improvement, and are never satisfied 
till it is the best it can be made. This is true reform. On 
the other hand the so-called reforms in which women engage 
are properly speaking not reforms at all, they are more nearly 
revolutions. The only institutions they have any interest in 
reforming are those that they believe to be bad, and the way 
they propose to reform them is simply to abolish them. It is 
self-preservation all the time. The bad is the unsafe, the 
dangerous, and women's reforms are simply crusades against 
real or supposed evils that threaten the safety of themselves 
and their children. Viewed in this light the most radical 
reform is the most complete conservatism, the conservation of 
all that they cherish in life. 

It will thus be seen that female intuition is in strong con- 
trast with the forms treated in Chapters XXII and XXIII. 
Those forms are adapted to securing the objects of desire. 
They are the supports of the psychic forces in seeking enjoy- 



Female Intuition. , 179 

ment and thus fulfiling the prime functions of existence. 
They may, therefore, from this point of view, be called positive 
or active intuition in contrast with the female quality which 
may be called negative or passive intuition. The latter does 
not impel the agent actively to go about any labor or under- 
taking. It merely prepares for action should it be necessary, 
or it puts a check upon proposed action if it seems inadvisable. 
A further contrast lies in the fact that female intuition involves 
no deception, whereas male intuition, as the other form might 
also be called, has for its essential characteristic the principle 
of deception. It is true that both these qualities belong, to a 
certain extent, to both sexes, that intuitive judgment, as defined 
in the last chapter and seen to be a general property of mind, 
does not essentially differ in principle from female intuition, 
while, on the other hand, intuitive reason is often well developed 
in women. Still, it is also true that when the mental constitu- 
tion of the two sexes is broadly contrasted, those qualities com- 
prehended under the term intuitive reason, viz., shrewdness, 
diplomacy, strategy, and the like, are preeminently male char- 
acteristics ; they are the active, positive, and progressive ele- 
ments of society, while the passive, negative, and conservative 
elements of caution, timidity, and apprehensiveness, constituting 
intuitive judgment, are especially feminine traits. In the next 
chapter we shall see this contrast still more strongly drawn in 
a form of intuition not hitherto considered. 

It is not, therefore, perhaps too much to say, when all the 
qualifications are made, that the intuitive faculty has developed 
along two distinct lines corresponding closely to those followed 
by the two sexes, and that there practically exist a male and a 
female trunk of the primary intellectual faculty, the one adapted 
to the sustentation and continuation, and the other to the protec- 
tion and conservation of the race. Or the male trunk may be 
conceived as devoted to the active increase, development, and 
advancement, and the female to the passive stability, perma- 
nence, and persistence of the type. The dominant characteristic 



180 Objective Factors. 

of the male faculty is courage, that of the female, prudence. 
These two antithetical psychologic factors are paralleled by the 
two biologic factors of male activity, favorable to adaptation and 
variability, as contrasted with female passivity, favorable to 
hereditary transmission and permanence of type. They also 
have their analogues in the two sociologic factors consisting 
of an ever-present radical party of progress held in check by an 
ever-present conservative party of order. 

A concluding thought on female intuition in general and 
woman's intuition in particular should not go unexpressed. 
V ' In Chap. XV occasion was taken to remark that in view of the 
. \ superior antiquity and general importance of the feelings to the 

intellect, woman, in whom the former are admitted to pre- 
dominate, must be accorded at least an equal rank with man in 
the economy of social life. And now from the point of view of 
intellectual development itself we find her side by side, and 
shoulder to shoulder with him furnishing, from the very out- 
set, far back in prehistoric, presocial, and even prehuman times, 
the necessary complement to his otherwise one-sided, headlong, 
and wayward career, without which he would soon have warped 
and distorted the race and rendered it incapable of the very 
progress which he claims exclusively to inspire. And therefore 
again, even in the realm of intellect, where he would fain reign 
supreme, she has proved herself fully his equal and is entitled 
to her share of whatever credit attaches to human progress 
thereby achieved. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE INVENTIVE FACULTY. 

The intellectual element, though commonly called a force, is not in 
reality such. It is not comparable with the other true psychic forces. 
These latter are obliged to do the real work that is performed, the same in 
the indirect as in the direct method. The intellect only guides them in such 
a manner as to secure the maximum results. It also brings other natural 
forces to their aid, and thus increases the effects. The general process by 
which all this is done is that of invention, the product is art, and therefore 
the faculty may be called the inventive faculty, and the phenomena pro- 
duced artificial phenomena. Dynamic Sociology, II, 100. 

It will have been observed that in all the active or progressive 
forms of intuition, involving the principle of deception, that 
have thus far been considered, the faculty expends itself chiefly 
upon sentient beings. The relations that are perceived and 
taken advantage of are mainly those arising from the activities 
of creatures possessing feeling. The benefits derived from 
efforts directed by the faculty are secured by the agent at the 
expense of some other living organism. For every pleasure 
enjoyed by the former there is a corresponding pain suffered 
by the latter. Indeed, there is often great disparity between 
the pains and pleasures, the former in such cases usually being 
largely in excess of the latter. Schopenhauer, in arguing for 
the excess of pain over pleasure in the world, instances the case 
of one animal devouring another. It is difficult to conceive of 
a sufficient disparity in the organic rank or nervous sensibility 
of the two to make the mere gustatory pleasure of the one 
balance the horrible sufferings of the other. But one need not 
seek this explanation, for the cases are without number in 
which the victim is by far the superior in point of organization 
and sensibility ; an extreme but common case being where 
man, a sage it may be, is slowly tortured to death to gratify so 



1 82 Objective Factors. 

low an organism as a tapeworm. But all germ diseases, as 
cholera, yellow fever, and it may be consumption, really con- 
stitute still more extreme cases. I do not, of course, mean that 
these parasites possess the intuitive faculty. They merely illus- 
trate the utter indifference of nature to animal suffering. 

Whatever name may be given to this quality in intuitive 
perception, i. e., the effect upon the lower animals, it is clear 
that the higher stage which I have distinguished as intuitive 
reason, in which it is directed toward human beings, is essen- 
tially immoral. This would probably be held to be true by 
most persons, even if it could be shown with certainty that the 
happiness thereby attained was greater than the suffering 
caused. It is only in the ethics of Herbert Spencer based on 
the laws that prevail in the animal world that the opposite could 
be maintained. This question belongs to a later chapter and 
concerns us here only in so far as it serves to bring out more 
clearly the precise nature of the intuitive faculty in general. 
It is only an accident that its exercise should so largely affect 
sentient beings. It is by no means restricted to these. It 
simply happens that a clearer conception of its nature could 
be gained by considering this application first, and by deferring 
until now the treatment of those manifestations of it which 
/ relate to inanimate objects and physical forces. 

rt) There is little doubt, as pointed out in Chap. XXI, that the 

I, initial efforts which led to the development of such a faculty 

^ were made in attempting to overcome material obstacles to the 

satisfaction of desire. The earliest relations which it was 
necessary to perceive in order to be able to pursue any but the 
direct course toward the object of desire were such as subsist 
. JJL^between the various physical barriers of the environment. The 
0/ straight line on which a body moves according to Newton's first 

-kkr 

J* law when aced upon by a single force was only possible to 

y ( living organisms inhabiting either water or air, and this may 

( be one of the reasons why, as paleontology teaches, the earliest 

/"^ / animals Vere aquatic. Vast periods, perhaps greater than all 



The Inventive Faculty. 183 

subsequent time, appear to have elapsed after the appearance 
of marine life before the introduction of land animals the 
entire Cambrian, Silurian, Devonian, and perhaps Carbonif- 
erous epochs. The known exceptions consist of insects which 
probably had the power of flight, and may have passed their 
larval existence in the water, and most of their imago lives in 
the air. In these media it was possible, when actuated by the 
desire to obtain food or mates, or to escape enemies, to move in 
straight lines toward the former or from the latter. The simple 
psychic forces unaided by any power of direction were adequate 
to these ends, and there was no need of any intuitive faculty 
for the perception of complex relations. But it was otherwise 
with land animals held to the surface of the earth by the force 
of gravitation. This was also the case with flying insects that 
must live among rocks, trees, herbage, and undergrowth. Some 
slight directive power must exist even in the simplest of these, 
and such an environment would probably have alone sufficed to 
lay the foundations for the directive faculty. A certain stage 
of this faculty was, therefore, necessarily developed very early 
in the history of terrestrial life. This stage may have remained 
stable during another very long period, and the next advance 
was probably brought about chiefly by the slow acquirement of 
the much higher degree of this faculty which was required to 
perceive the vastly more complex relations of animal movement. 
V It was at this second stage that intuitive perception as described 
^ in Chap. XXII began, and from this time until the advent 
of man its chief exercise was upon these higher relations, 
although the strengthening faculty was also thereby rendered 
more and more capable of dealing with the simpler physical 
relations. 

It has been seen that after the human stage was reached 
the leading application of the indirect method was still to vital 
and psychic phenomena, that throughout the social epoch and 
in the highest civilized state this continued to be the case, and 
that through this means the intuitive reason has reached its 




184 Objective Factors. 

highest development in business shrewdness, political diplo- 
macy, and military strategy. 

But very early in the human stage, and more especially in 
the incipient social stage, the application of the directive 
faculty to inanimate things began to assume importance. 
As numbers increased and the conditions of life became more 
complicated the purely animal methods of pursuing subsistence 
( grew more and more inadequate. Foresight in accumulating 
j stores for future and permanent supply of wants may have 
[been the earliest and simplest form of exercising this faculty, 
but along with it there went the discovery of means for in- 
creasing the ease and rapidity with which this could be done. 
Whether the primary mode was the chase or some primitive 
form of agriculture, it called forth in either case a new form of 
the intuitive faculty, not hitherto considered. None of the 
terms employed in the preceding chapters will properly apply 
to this form of its exercise, and a different one must be used. 
The word which most adequately conveys this idea is ingenuity. 
It is true that in the chase sagacity and cunning were of the 
utmost value in circumventing the animals to be captured, but 
something else was required to make this mode of life a suc- 
cessful means of supplying the wants of a large number of 
individuals. Some additional material instruments must be 
employed as aids in the chase. The use of a club or a stone to 
increase the effect of a blow, or overcome the distance between 
the pursuer and his prey may seem an exceedingly simple de- 
vice, and yet it is doubtful whether any ape or monkey (these 
animals having organs adapted to such acts) has been known 
to resort to it. All animals rely exclusively upon the organic 
weapons with which nature has endowed them both for attack 
and defence. The use, therefore, of any material object not 
part of themselves for giving greater force to their effort was 
a complete innovation and involved a new application of the 
intuitive faculty, or a higher attribute of mind than belongs 
to any creature lower in the scale than man. But even should 



The Inventive Faculty. 185 

it be satisfactorily shown that any other animal than man 
ever employs such means, this would only be to remove the 
point of origin of the inventive faculty so much farther back. 
There is, of course, no end of cases in which animals employ 
devices to accomplish definite purposes where more or less use 
is made of extraneous objects and physical forces. Language 
permits us to call the many remarkable ways in which birds 
build nests ingenious, and it is also known that they improve 
their methods under certain circumstances. The archer fish 
kills insects that fly over, by shooting them with jets of water 
from its elongated snout; spiders that spin long gossamers. 
know how to take in sail like a mariner or to let themselves 
down at the proper time and place like an aeronaut; and the 
list might be indefinitely increased. But if such cases are 
attributed to any high mental faculty, what shall be said of 
certain insectivorous plants, such as Genlisea ornata of Brazil,, 
which catches its prey in a complicated sort of trap, or of 
Dioncea muscipula, which spontaneously closes upon it by a 
movement of its own ? Most of such cases consist of adapta- 
tions which 'have been slowly brought about through the 
operation of natural selection, and if we may properly call 
them contrivances it is because we really use a figure of speech 
which has become so common that the fact is lost sight of that 
it is really metaphorical. It is, however, doubtless true that 
the practice of using such figures grew up under the influence 
of a prevailing teleological habit of thought, due to the old 
cosmology which regarded everything as constructed by an 
outside power for its specific purpose, and language has so 
conformed itself to this philosophy that it is impossible to 
express one's self so as to be understood without employing its 
formulas. It may, nevertheless, be admitted that in some of 
the cases, such as the construction of nests, intuitive percep- 
tion has cooperated with natural selection and the develop- 
ment of the instinct, and this, so far as it goes, does not in 
the least differ qualitatively from invention, although, quanti- 



1 86 Objective Factors. 

tatively considered, it falls infinitely below the simplest forms 
displayed by primitive man. 

Returning to the hunting stage of human development we 
might trace the progress of invention from the club or stone, 
through all the stages of spears, darts, bows and arrows, slings, 
boomerangs, etc., to modern fire arms. Similarly might be 
traced the artificial means of ensnaring and entrapping animals. 
Among coast dwellers this latter method was directed to the 
capture of fish and other creatures that inhabit the water, and 
all the appliances that have been devised by man for this pur- 
pose might be passed in review. In the agricultural or georgic 
stage the quality of forethought was more specially called out 
by the necessity of sowing or planting and awaiting the 
harvest, but success depended fully as much upon artificial 
means as in the chase. Instruments for turning the soil, how- 
ever rude at first, had to be devised, presenting all the steps 
from a sharpened stick to the developed plow. To this were 
gradually added all other agricultural implements. 

The pastoral or bucolic stage called forth in the domesti- 
cation of animals a form of the faculty closely resembling 
cunning or shrewdness. It consisted mainly in deceiving 
the less sagacious creatures, but differed from that displayed 
in the capture of prey in not immediately killing and devour- 
ing them, but in what is called taming them. It took advan- 
tage of the law that injury is what animals seek to escape, 
and that when they find that they are not to be injured, they 
submit. A tamed animal is a sort of a parasite living on man 
whom it has ceased to fear, but in return for the subsistence 
furnished, man makes certain uses of it, compelling it to work 
for him, killing it for food, shearing its fleece, milking the 
females, etc. 

With the increase of population and the dispersion of man 
over the earth many other wants arose, especially those of 
clothing and shelter. No other wants were more directly 
conducive to the development of the inventive faculty. How- 



The Inventive Faculty. 187 

ever simple man's dwelling places might be, a large amount of 
ingenuity was required in constructing them. If his clothing 
consisted solely of the skins of animals these were improved 
by sewing them together. And from these beginnings might 
be followed out two of the leading human industries and their 
progress might be traced to the stage at which they have 
arrived in civilized countries. But along with these real needs, 
and often even earlier, man is found exerting perhaps greater 
ingenuity in the supply of imaginary needs. Ornamentation, 
antedated clothing and temples of religion preceded human 
habitations. 

One of the strongest spurs to invention was war. Early 
man was almost invariably warlike. If he preferred peace he 
was driven to war as a means of defence. Weapons of war 
must be devised, and thus while the strategic faculty was being 
developed the inventive faculty was at the same time stimulated. 
The weapons of war were of two kinds, offensive and defensive, 
and tribe vied with tribe, as nation still vies with nation in the 
production of both. No higher stimulus to invention can be 
conceived of than is afforded by this state of things. For 
success depends upon the introduction ' of a more effective 
means than previously existed. Such a means puts an enemy 
or foreign power at the mercy of the most ingenious nation. 
This state of unstable equilibrium always exists, for the moment 
one power thus gains the mastery it becomes a necessity that 
others shall outdo it in the same direction. In this way the 
instruments of destruction and the artifices of protection against 
them have alternately overreached each other in an ascending 
series until we have the modern methods of warfare which are 
still unchanged in this respect. 

This progress in the means of warfare well illustrates the 
question discussed a few pages back as to the real difference 
between the methods of man and those of nature. The prog- 
ress that has taken place among animals in acquiring weapons 
of offense and characters adapted to defense against these 



1 88 Objective Factors. 

tusks, horns, claws, spurs, etc., on the one hand, and shells, 
bristles, quills (as of the porcupine), etc., on the other seems 
to be almost an exact parallel on a lower plane to that of man 
in war. And yet the former is the undoubted product of 
natural selection and is seen almost as clearly in plants, especi- 
ally the defensive side of it. It is these analogies, and there 
are many of them, which so forcibly struck Hugh Miller, 1 and 
writers of that class, who thought they saw in them the evi- 
dences of design in the universe. But they never seemed to 
reflect to how little purpose this design would thus be put, 
since at each higher stage the relative positions of the offensive 
and defensive combatants is the same, and it appears to the 
rational observer like a vast waste of energy without any result. 
The conditions above enumerated that have specially stimu- 
lated the inventive faculty are only the most obvious and 
fundamental ones. With the general upward tendencies of 
social life they were indefinitely multiplied. The materials and 
forces of nature were more and more systematically employed 
to the advantage of man. The wind was utilized first for 
winnowing and then as a motor force by means of a true 
machine, the windmill Water was utilized by the construction 
of floating objects which eventually took the form of true boats 
propelled by paddles or oars, or finally by sails, in which latter 
case both wind and water were brought into service. Later 
its power was discovered to do other work, and watermills 
appeared. Gunpowder and other explosives were the products 
of the war impulse. Gravitation was utilized in weights for 
various purposes. Elasticity, perhaps first used in the bow, 
came to play a leading role, and springs came to replace weights 
in many cases. The power of steam was a late discovery and 
was succeeded by that of electricity. With the former was 
ushered in the true era of machinery and locomotion. The 
latter is still far from having reached its maximum utility. 
Such is the barest sketch of the achievements of the inventive 

1 Testimony of the Rocks, pp. 240-242. 



The Inventive Faculty. 189 

faculty, not intended as such, but merely as furnishing a few 
of the leading examples of its operation as an agency of civili- 
zation. It is easy to see from even so brief a survey of the 
field that this is the real civilizing agent. If certain refining 
influences, largely dependent indirectly upon this, be left out 
of the account, it is correct to say that civilization consists in 
the utilization of the materials and forces of nature, and the 
exclusive means by which this is accomplished is human in- 
vention. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

PSYCHOLOGY OF INVENTION. 

The inventor of a useful instrument is the best illustration of a final 
cause. With the end distinctly in view but beyond his reach, he sits down 
and evolves from his knowledge of physical laws an indirect method of 
accomplishing it. Unable to perform an act immediately, he reasons out 
a plan of performing it mediately. By a train of logical calculation, from 
premises obtained by experience and observation, he determines a mode of 
taking advantage of blind mechanical forces and directing them into such 
channels as will accomplish the end in view. This method may be illus- 
trated by the simplest of the mechanical laws, that made use of in the lever 
and fulcrum. The advantage which man is able to take over nature by an 
adjustment of appliances is the principle or nexiis which connects mind 
with matter, and permits the former to manifest itself through the latter 
as a force. Dynamic Sociology, I, 551-552. 

Ad opera nil aliud potest homo, quam ut corpora naturalia admoveat et 
amoveat ; reliqua Natura intus transigit. BACON : Novum Organum, 
Aph. IV. 

Toutes les fois que nous parvenous a exercer une grande action, c'est 
seulement parce que la connaissance des lois naturelles nous permet 
d'introduire, parmi les circonstances de'terminees sous 1'influence desquelles 
s'accomplissent les divers phe'nomenes, quelques elements modificateurs, 
qui, quelque faible qu'ils soient en eux-memes, suffisent, dans certains cas, 
pour faire tourner a notre satisfaction les rdsultats defmitifs de 1'ensemble 
des causes exte'rieures. AUGUSTE COMTE : Philosophic Positive, I, 51. 

When the inventive faculty is carefully compared with the 
other forms of intuition which have been considered there are 
found to be certain resemblances and certain differences. The 
resemblances are far more general and important than the 
differences, all forms agreeing in the fundemental condition of 
consisting in the perception of relations, chiefly of the same 
general classes of relations, viz., those of resistance, direction, 
*rae of motion, and distance. The distinction between inven- 



Psychology of Invention. 191 

tion and that primitive form of intuition which was called 
intuitive perception, beyond its differentiation into the sole 
perception of physical relations, is mainly one of degree, but 
the degree is very great. The distinction between it and the 
higher form of intuition which was called intuitive reason may 
be illustrated in several ways. Both are limited mainly if not 
exclusively to man, but whereas intuitive reason is chiefly 
exercised on other human beings or on the lower animals, i. e., 
in perceiving psychic relations, invention is exclusively con- 
fined to material objects and physical forces, i. e., to perceiving 
physical relations. But as business shrewdness may, and con- 
stantly does take cognizance of the material surroundings, 
some more exact points of difference must be found. One of 
these is that in the latter the attention is strictly confined to 
the question of personal interest. No physical relations are 
sought for that are not directly advantageous to the subject. 
The relations perceived are those which subsist between the 
subject and whatever material objects may be concerned. 
They are never such as subsist between two material objects 
without affecting the subject. From this point of view, this 
form, and indeed all the other forms of intuition, may be called 
subjective, and invention may be distinguished as objective. 
For here the relations perceived are entirely between external 
objects or forces and never between these and the subject. 
The moment the subject enters into the process the form is 
changed and it becomes subjective. 

From another point of view invention or objective intuition 
may be called disinterested, in contradistinction to subjective 
intuition which is essentially egoistic. This latter is the im- 
mediate servant of the will. Its sole purpose is to assist the 
psychic forces in securing the satisfaction of desire. This 
intensely interested nature of the intuitive reason gives it far 
greater volume and strength, and it pushes on through obstacles 
and obstructions and makes itself felt. In contrast with this 
the objective, disinterested form of intuition has little force or 

\ 



1 92 Objective Factors. 

self-assertion, loses sight of self and absorbs itself in nature, 
thus assimilating itself in this respect to the derivative faculties 
to be hereafter considered. 

All these distinctions are illustrated by the well-known fact 
that inventors seldom profit by their inventions, while shrewd 
business men frequently make fortunes out of them under the 
very eye of the inventor. The faculty exercised by the two 
classes is here seen to be widely different. The sharp egoism 
of the one is in strong contrast with the neglect on the part of 
the other of his personal interests for the sake of unfolding an 
important physical principle. It is profitable to the sociologist 
to consider carefully these two classes of character. The 
inventor always sees the utility of his invention. This is the 
essence of the process. Invention may be defined as the 
perception of relations of utility. It may be said that all intui- 
tion consists in this, and so it does, but in all the other forms 
the only utility considered is immediate utility to self. The 
utility that the inventor perceives is perpetual utility to all who 
use the invention. In this sense the inventor may be called the 
most practical of all men. The relations which the inventor 
perceives, although physical, are often exceedingly complex 
and recondite, much more so than the subjective relations, 
even though psychic, which the business man perceives. 

If now we take the case of an inventor who has devised a 
mechanism or discovered a principle of vast importance to the 
future of civilization, and suppose that through absorption in 
this principle and consequent neglect of his personal interests 
he has, however carelessly and culpably, allowed a shrewd busi- 
ness man to get possession of his invention, and suppose the 
latter to have introduced it into general use as fully as is con- 
sistent with reserving for himself an ample fortune, while the 
inventor has remained poor so as to interfere seriously with his 
success in discovering other principles ; this would be only 
a slight exaggeration and simplification of actual cases known 
to history. Sociologically considered, which of these two men 



Psychology of Invention. 193 

is of most worth ? But for the business man the inventor might 
not have had the sagacity to introduce his principle. But for 
the inventor the business man would have been obliged to 
make his fortune out of some other man's talents. Both have 
done a service. Which has done the greater service ? If it 
were known that but for the business man the invention would 
have remained as if it had not been made, the services of the 
two might be regarded as practically equal, although all would 
concede to the inventor a higher place from the point of view 
of personal worth. But as it can never be known whether the 
inventor would have applied his principle, it is clear to every 
one that his was the essentially meritorious act. It is felt that 
he possesses something rare and valuable, something of a far 
higher order of merit. The business man's talent is rather 
ordinary, it is a lower, coarser-grained form of ability, and it 
consists to a greater or less extent in gaining for himself what 
really belongs to another. Yet under the law of competition, 
i.e., under the only law that most political economists and soci- 
ologists recognize, this man is by far the fitter to survive. From 
the biological standpoint he should survive and the inventor 
should go to the wall. This case illustrates, as crucially as any, 
the distinction between the current philosophy of society and 
that of meliorism ; between biologic and psychologic sociology. 
If the inventive faculty be compared with intuitive judgment 
and female intuition much greater differences will be found 
than those which distinguish it from intuitive perception and 
intuitive reason. Besides most of the distinctions pointed out 
as separating the male or active from the female or passive 
forms of intuition there are other specific distinctions. Passive 
or negative intuition is as egoistic as active or positive intuition. 
Self-protection is no more disinterested than self-aggrandize- 
ment. The relations perceived in the one, as in the other, are 
always relacions between object and subject, never, as in inven- 
tion, between two or more objects. They are also usually 
psychic relations and only rarely physical relations. The 



194 Objective Factors. 

conservatism that characterizes negative intuition in tolerating 
no innovation fosters no improvements. But all improvement 
results from invention, hence it stimulates no invention. Ex- 
treme forms of this tendency are seen in some cases of religious 
conservatism which looks upon all newfangled contrivances as 
diabolical, and if allowed prohibits or distroys them. 1 The 
habit of thought also reacts upon the constitution of the mind 
rendering conservative persons uninventive. It is difficult to 
demonstrate this in men, yet could it be investigated it would 
probably appear. But society possesses a great conservative 
class the female sex and a comparison of the average 
mental qualities of men and women is not difficult. While 
many exceptions of course exist, while there are conservative 
men and progressive women, and uninventive men and ingeni- 
ous women, it is nevertheless an obvious fact patent to every 
observer that the female is the conservative and the male the 
inventive sex, that women as a rule are conservative, and that 
as a rule they are not inventive. The foregoing considerations 
go to show that these qualities, stand in the relation of cause 
and effect, that the habitual exercise of the intuitive judgment 
is not favorable to the development of the inventive faculty. 

This exhausts the sources of comparison, and the question 
reverts to the psychology of invention, the essential nature of 
an inventive act. All the mental acts of intuition of whatever 
form, that is, the flow of nerve-currents constituting psychic 
activity, are attended with corresponding movements of the ap- 
propriate organs or of the entire organism. These movements 
are adapted to taking advantage of the relations perceived. In 
the subjective forms of intuition these acts are usually such as 

1 Suivant la logique, barbare mais rigoureuse, des peuples arrieres, toute inter- 
vention active de I'homme pour ameliorer a son profit 1'economie generate de la 
nature, doit certainement constituer une sorte d'injurieux attentat au gouverne- 
ment providentiel. II n'est pas douteux, en effet, qu'une preponderance trop 
absolue de 1'esprit religieux tend necessairement, en elle-meme, a engourdir 1'essor 
industriel de 1'humanite, par le sentiment exaggere d'un stupide optimisme, 
comme on peut le verifier en tant d'occasions decisives. Auguste Comte : Phi- 
losophic Positive, IV, 517. 



Psychology of Invention. 195 

to deceive some other sentient being, and cause such being to 
do what it otherwise would not have done, or to refrain from 
doing what it would otherwise have done. That is, it consists 
in a form of inducement, allurement, or attraction to perform 
certain acts. Certain forces are perceived regularly to actuate 
living things, and by cunning, sagacity, shrewdness, diplomacy, 
or strategy these forces are made to impel in directions that 
will be advantageous to the intuitive agent. Mechanical inge- 
nuity certainly very closely resembles this. Certain qualities 
of material bodies and certain physical forces (these in the last 
analysis being really the same) are perceived to exist. It is 
also perceived that if these forces acted in a different direction, 
or with a different degree of intensity from what they do when 
unobstructed, or acted together instead of separately, or with, 
instead of against each other, etc., etc., they would of them- 
selves accomplish results advantageous to man, primarily, of 
course, advantageous to self. It is still further perceived that 
although the agent himself is unable by his own muscular 
strength to accomplish these desired results, he is able to make 
such adjustments in the circumjacent objects as will change 
the direction, intensity, and dynamic relations of these forces, 
so as to cause them to act as he perceives to be advantageous. 
Or, dealing with the qualities of materials, he is able to change 
their form from the amorphous and useless to the definite and 
useful, as e. g., to convert clay 1 into pots, or trees into boats. 
Such complicated readjustments as these last named required 
a high degree of intellectual development, and could only have 
been finally reached through an infinite number of partial fail- 
ures and increasingly successful efforts. 

1 'AXXa yTjv /JLI> ouSeis i'Sart 5ei*ras d^Tj/cej/, cJs dirb rtixW xal auro^drws Tr\lv6uv 
v. Plutarch : Ilepl T^ 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

INVENTIVE GENIUS. 

The devices and strategems by which he [man] was enabled to circum- 
vent the less sagacious forms of life, and the foresight and calculation 
which taught him how to multiply the growth and abundance of nutritive 
vegetables, were of no avail beyond a certain limit unless supplemented and 
assisted by a still higher order of mental activity, by a practical compre- 
hension of the inert laws of physics and mechanics, and the skillful elabora- 
tion of material objects into forms adapted to aid, accelerate, intensify, and 
focalize the natural forces which were operating in the direction of pro- 
ducing his means of subsistence. The form of mental exertion, the species 
of cunning, which he had manifested in the primary modes of production, 
were superficial and general. To make them permanently successful, they 
required to be seconded by more profound and more specific forms of 
psychic power and intellectual energy. Dynamic Sociology, I, 549. 

Now, what I maintain, and what the advocates of the new education 
ought to insist upon in the discussion of this question, is, that this exalted 
faculty of invention, both in its mental and its physical aspects both as 
to mind and body, brain and muscle is susceptible of cultivation in the 
same manner and to the same degree as all other human faculties. The 
mind can be directed by appropriate training into habits of inventive 
thought. It can be habituated to look for possible utilities in all objects 
and phenomena that present themselves to the senses, and trained to 
embody these ideas in concrete forms and mechanisms. This is genuine 
invention. The process consists in forming a mental conception of a given 
utility, and then in working out the modifications necessary to realize it. 
. . . The great mistake lies in supposing that this state of things cannot or 
should not be increased. It can be increased by education to any desired 
degree, and such a degree can be conceived of as might relieve mankind 
of nearly all the drudgery that has now to be performed. The Foru?n, 
Vol. V, New York, July, 1888, p. 578. 

Primo itaque videtur inventorum nobilium introductio inter actiones 
humanas longe primas partes tenere : id quod antiqua saecula judicaverunt. 
Ea enim rerum inventoribus divinos honores tribuerunt ; iis autem qui in 
rebus civilibus merebantur (quales erant urbium et imperiorum conditores, 
legislators, patriarum a diuturnis malis liberatores, tyrannidum debellatores, 
et his similes), heroum tantum honores decreverunt. Atque certe si quis ea 



Inventive Genius. 197 

recte conferat, justum hoc prisci sseculi judicium reperiet. Etenim inven- 
torum beneficia ad universum genus humanum pertinere possunt, civilia ad 
certas tantummodo hominum sedes : base etiam non ultra paucas aetates 
durant, ilia quasi perpetuis temporibus. Atque status emendatio in civili- 
bus non sine vi et perturbatione plerumque procedit : at inventa beant, et 
beneficium def erunt absque alicujus injuria aut tristitia. BACON : Novum 
Organum, Aph. cxxix. 

The higher acquisitions and achievements of intellect have now become 
so remote from practical life, that their relations to it are usually lost sight 
of. But if we remember that in the stick employed to heave up a stone, or 
the paddle to propel a boat, we have illustrations of the uses of levers ; 
while in the pointing of an arrow so as to allow for its fall during flight, 
certain dynamical principles are tacitly recognized ; and that from these 
vague early cognitions the progress may be traced step by step to the 
generalizations of mathematicians and astronomers ; we see that science 
has gradually emerged from the crude knowledge of the savage. And if 
we remember that as this crude knowledge of the savage served for simple 
guidance of his life-sustaining actions, so the developed sciences of math- 
ematics and astronomy serve for guidance in the workshop and the counting- 
house and for steering of vessels, while developed physics and chemistry 
preside over all manufacturing processes ; we see that at the one extreme 
as at the other, furtherance of men's ability to deal effectually with the sur- 
rounding world, and so to satisfy their wants, is that purpose of intellectual 
culture which precedes all others. HERBERT SPENCER: Principles of 
Ethics, I, pp. 516-517. 

Jene Scharfe des Verstandes im Auffassen der kausalen Beziehungen der 
mittelbar erkannten Objekte findet ihre Anwendung nicht allein in der 
Naturwissenschaft (deren sammtliche Entdeckungen ihr zu verdanken sind); 
sondern auch im praktischen Leben, wo sie Klugheit heisst ; da sie 
hingegen in der ersteren Anwendung besser Scharfsinn, Penetration, und 
Sagacitat genannt wird : genau genommen bezeichnet Klugheit ausschliess- 
lich den im Dienste des Willens stehenden Verstand. Jedoch sind die 
Granzen dieser Begriffe nie scharf zu ziehen, da es immer eine und dieselbe 
Funktion des namlichen, schon bei der Anschauung der Objekte im Raum 
in jedem Thiere thatigen Verstandes ist, die, in ihrer grossten Scharfe, bald 
in den Erscheinungen der Natur von der gegebenen Wirkung die unbe- 
kannte Ursache richtig erforscht und so der Vernunft den Stoff giebt zum 
Denken allgemeiner Regeln als Naturgesetze ; bald, durch Anwendung 
bekannter Ursachen zu bezweckten Wirkungen, komplicirte sinnreiche 
Maschinen erfindet ; bald, auf Motivation angewendet, entweder feine In- 
triguen und Machinationen durchschaut und vereitelt, oder aber auch selbst 



198 Objective Factors. 

die Motive und die Menschen, welche fur jedes derselben empfanglich 
sind, gehorig stellt, und sie eben nach Belieben, wie Maschinen durch 
Hebel und Rader, in Bewegung setzt und zu ihren Zwecken leitet 
SCHOPENHAUER : Welt als Wille, I, 25-26. 

The use of the word geniris has thus far been avoided be- 
cause there is usually associated with all its uses the notion of 
disinterested application to some inspiring conception, a notion 
directly opposed to the intense egoism characteristic of the 
class of primary intellectual acts that have been considered. 
But the inventive faculty alone among all these contains the 
possibility of developing out of self and of losing itself in 
nature. Originating like the others in pure egoism under the 
lash of the will, it still possessed even at the outset, as shown 
in the last chapter, the special privilege of being directed 
toward the discernment of relations between external things, 
and of being only secondarily connected with the willing sub- 
ject. At first this liberty produced no tendency to cut loose 
from the will, and these relations were perceived only in order 
to discover thereby a line, however irregular, of least resistance 
to the object of desire. But at length the habit of treating 
these means temporarily as ends resulted in transferring some 
small part of the satisfaction to the successful discovery of the 
means. The rare and special quality of mind required for this 
gave it a peculiar relish and it became a pleasure to discover 
hitherto unsuspected means for the accomplishment even of 
the primary ends of being. Up to this point we may consider 
the intellect simply as an instrument of the will, but hence- 
forth it was destined to form, to a greater and greater extent, 
a part of the will or soul, to become itselt a center of 
emotional feeling, to have wants of its own and desires to 
satisfy. This datum point may be set down as the true origin 
of the sense of enjoyment in intellectual exercise, which ulti- 
mately developed into a great psychic and social force. 

This circumstance soon carried the inventive faculty above 
and beyond the other forms of intuition. The act of seeking 



Inventive Genius. 199 

out and discovering useful relations became in a high degree 
pleasing, and ultimately, in the case of a few individuals, devel- 
oped into a passion. Ability to discern utilities and make the 
requisite adjustments was, and still is, recognized as a form of 
genius the inventive genius of man. A small but increasing 
proportion of the population devoted themselves more or less 
exclusively to this task. At the outset the work was chiefly 
constructive and consisted in mentally representing a useful 
object, its form, and size, its adaptation and purpose, and then 
in proceeding to fashion it out of the materials most fit and 
accessible. The simpler the laws involved the greater the 
labor of construction, so that many of the earlier inventions 
were what are now regarded as merely the products of unskilled 
labor. But in the infancy of the race all labor was skilled. 
Labor itself, if it results in anything, involves the element of 
skill. 1 In early times labor and skill were undifferentiated. 
Invention and construction seemed one and the same. 

Not to dwell on the details, the important truth is that the 
development of inventive genius in man ultimately resulted in 
the introduction of art. It caused the raw materials of nature 
which had previously constituted his only resources to be dis- 
carded and replaced more and more, and at length almost ex- 
clusively, by artificial products. So nearly is this transforma- 
tion complete in modern civilized countries that the fact is lost 
sight of even by political economists. That is, they find it so 
universal that they come to regard it as the natural condition. 
This leads them into the greatest absurdities. The biological 
school, which may still be said to be the predominant one, is 
fond of treating civilization as the product of natural forces and 
of inveighing against everything that any one attempts to do 
to modify or in any way interfere with those forces, forgetting 

1 All labor is mental. To a large and controlling extent the mental element is 
present in the simplest operations. With the laborer who shovels in the gravel pit 
the directing and controlling influence of the mind predominates, to an indefinite 
extent, over the simple foot-pounds of mechanical force which he exerts. J. B. 
Clark: Philosophy of Wealth, p. 21. 



2OO Objective Factors. 

entirely that civilization in all its essential characteristics is an 
exclusively artificial product, the product of the inventive 
genius of man in modifying and altering the course of nature. 
Every adjustment made at the behest of inventive genius is an 
interference with the course of natural law. Every object of 
art is such as nature never would have created. When one 
looks about and realizes how extremely seldom any other class 
of objects are ever used by man, some idea may be gained of 
the intensely artificial character of civilization. But this is as 
it should be, for everywhere the artificial is superior to the 
natural, and what is called progress consists in making every- 
thing more and more artificial, i. e., in putting more art into all 
products, discovering new and added utilities by calling into 
play still higher flights of inventive genius. 

In Chapter XIV it was shown that the great subjective factor 
of mind, the soul or will of nature, constitutes a transforming 
agency, and some of the transformations accomplished by it 
were recounted. Most of those there enumerated belonged to 
the subhuman stage of development, those of the human stage 
being purposely omitted because a new and as yet unexplaineH 
factor entered into them. That factor is now under considera- 
tion. The great psychic, or as it now becomes, social force 
was undiminished and constituted the impelling factor, but it 
could accomplish little without the aid of the intellect in the 
form of an inventive faculty as a directive factor. With both 
factors at work the transformation became rapid and per- 
manent. Nothing equal or at all comparable to it had ever 
before been accomplished. It could not await the slow 
methods of nature in bringing about after millions of genera- 
tions the anatomical modifications that were referred to. It 
worked directly upon the environment radically changing it 
and rendering structural adaptations unnecessary. This may 
be why man has really undergone so few of the latter. Struct- 
ural modifications can only go on under the influence of an 
environmental pressure in the given direction. But if the 



Inventive Genius. 201 

moment such a pressure is felt it is immediately relieved by an 
artificial device, the cause of the change is removed and the 
tendency to change ceases. This was practically done in the 
case of man, invention being constantly directed toward the 
relief of environmental pressure and along the line of free 
activity in the satisfaction of desire. 

It is on these grounds that I have maintained in Dynamic 
Sociology that material civilization has constituted a true 
human progress under the rigid definition there given of what 
progress is, viz., increased happiness. For happiness consists 
in the continuous satisfaction of the desires as they arise, and 
its increase results from multiplying the desires that can be 
thus satisfied. This material civilization accomplishes by im- 
proving the quality of everything that man uses in his daily life 
and introducing new means of satisfying new and higher wants. 
It is true that the introduction of the arts, the products of in- 
ventive genius, has entailed upon mankind the necessity of 
labor, and in most ages and countries this has been a severe 
hardship upon the great mass, but there are some extenuating 
circumstances. The first of these is that it is only by labor 
that so large a number of human beings can live on the earth. 
It is the condition to their existence. The choice lies between 
labor and extinction. Without the arts which render labor 
necessary the earth would support a much less numerous 
population. The question, therefore, is narrowed down to 
whether a life of labor is better than no life. If life, such as it 
is, is a -gain, then is the opportunity to labor, i. e., civilization, 
a means of progress. But if it be said that this hardship is due 
to the unjust distribution of the products of labor, then the 
answer must be that this is not chargeable to inventive genius 
but to rapacity, which is a form of the egoistic faculty, and that 
it presents a problem for the sociologist. Finally, the hardship 
is often caused by the influence of those rapid transitions 
which characterize intellectual as distinguished from the lower 
agencies of nature, and which do not leave time enough for the 



2O2 Objective Factors. 

proper adjustments to suit the new conditions. Such a transi- 
tion has recently taken place by the sudden revolution in 
modes of production caused by the introduction of machinery, 
and it will require a long time for the laborer to regain the hold 
on the profits of his labor which he had before the commence- 
ment of this era. 

A broad distinction is usually made between mechanical 
invention and scientific discovery, between the Henrys who 
discover the laws of electricity and the Morses who invent 
telegraphic alphabets. The difference is certainly striking in 
such extreme cases, but there are all gradations between them. 
In all cases there is a perception of relations existing among 
physical phenomena, the qualities of substances, and the nature 
of mechanical movements. The extent to which attention is 
directed to the adjustments necessary to realize the utilities 
varies. Where such adjustments are the primary considera- 
tion, it is pure invention. Where these are made secondary, 
and attention is concentrated upon the laws and processes, it 
is chiefly discovery. The distinction is nearly the same as 
that between science and empiricism. It is not widely dif- 
ferent from that between science and art. There can be no 
successful empiricism, no true art, without an accurate percep- 
tion of the relations involved. There may be, however, pure 
discovery without any application of natural principles. That 
is, there may be science without art, but there cannot be art 
without science in the full meaning of that term. And in 
cases of pure, i. e., unapplied science it is always felt that its 
purpose has not yet been attained, that its application is still 
to be made, and that until it is made science is without value. 
This applies even to those cases in which, at the time of a 
scientific discovery, it is impossible to conceive any practical 
use to which it can be put. Those who contend for the free 
exercise of the scientific powers untrammeled by considerations 
of practical utility maintain that truth thus brought to light is 
certainly destined to be useful at some future time, and they 



Inventive Genius. 203 

point to the labors of Volta and Galvani actuated purely by the 
love of discovery and without the slightest conception of the 
infinite possibilities of electricity. Truth is rightly conceived 
as always possessing at least a potential utility and, therefore, 
as always worthy of investigation. But a still higher ground 
is also properly taken. Even could it be known that no 
mechanical inventions, no practical arts, could ever flow from 
a given discovery, it is maintained that the truth thus made 
known is worth pursuing for its own sake. By this is meant 
that there are other utilities than the purely material ones. 
Not merely either that the intellectual enjoyment of knowing 
such truths is itself a utility of the highest order, which is 
true, but that such knowledge cannot fail to prove of practical 
value to those possessing it in serving as a guide to conduct. 
It helps to complete that knowledge of their environment, 
which, taken together, furnishes the rule of action and the key 
to success. It has been proved that crime may be prevented 
by broadening the mind of the criminal with knowledge that 
he can never make any direct use of, and I have myself main- 
tained, and still believe, that astronomy is aj^orepra^tic^^sjaib- 
ject than ethics to^j^ej^J^tji^^ 

To the account of inventive genius, then, in the broadest 
sense of the term, must be set down the spirit of scientific 
inquiry and the passion for original research which so largely 
characterize the modern age, and which have wrought such a 
momentous change in the character of civilization and the con- 
dition of society. The theme is much too common to need 
illustration or elaboration, and it is sufficient for the present 
purpose to have fixed its position in the general train of 
psychic events that have succeeded one another in the upward 
progress of an evolving race. 

One question remains. Is the inventive genius of man sus- 
ceptible of cultivation ? In view of its unquestioned value to 
the world and its freedom from all the evil tendencies shown 
to inhere in the lower purely egoistic forms of the primary 



204 Objective Factors. 

intellectual faculty, it would seem that the more there were of 
it the better. Is it as high already as it is possible for it to 
rise ? If not, is it possible to raise it higher by any artificial 
means ? These questions may be answered separately. 

The great length to which the inventive spirit has actually 
been carried, the number of individuals who are devoting 
themselves to invention, and the multitude of attempts that 
are yearly made to utilize some new principle or improve upon 
some mechanism already discovered, as shown by the models 
submitted for patent in the enlightened nations of the world, 
give the general impression that the inventive spirit is as 
active as it need be for the healthy development of the 
mechanical arts. The fact that the love of invention becomes 
with many a ruling passion, and that, as with all useful mental 
qualities, it sometimes runs to extremes, as seen in Keely 
motors and devices to secure perpetual motion all this tends 
to strengthen the common belief that this faculty at least can 
maintain itself without any effort on the part of society. A 
little reflection, however, should make it apparent that these 
facts are really only so many arguments for the systematic 
training of the inventive faculty. Its great intensity argues 
for checks, regulation, broadening, and deepening. The num- 
ber of inoperatiye mechanisms and preoccupied principles for 
which patents are sought, proves the need of wider information 
on the part of the public relative to all such matters. The 
attempts to apply imaginary principles show that knowledge is 
as necessary to successful invention as zeal in its prosecution. 

Granting that the inventive spirit is as strong as it needs to 
be, granting that no form of education could act directly to 
increase the native supply of inventive genius in any indi- 
vidual, and that this is a matter of heredity alone, there still 
remains the argument that this talent, like every other, is likely 
to remain forever dormant unless called out by some combi- 
nation of external circumstances. Education properly under- 
stood is little more, at best, than the creation of an artificial 



Inventive Genius. 205 

environment calculated to call into exercise all the latent talents 
of those who receive it. The number manifesting this kind 
of genius may, therefore, be greatly increased through a form of 
education which should be really adapted to calling it forth. 

It may be said that this would simply multiply the number 
of models and flood the world with machines that could not be 
used. This objection suggests the main argument for the 
education of the inventive faculty. Civilization has really 
advanced in exact proportion to the extent to which society 
was prepared to employ the arts brought out by the inventive 
genius of a small proportion of its members. This is no 
measure of the degree of art that it would have been possible 
to attain. In other words the advance has been in proportion 
to the demand which is no measure of the possible supply. 
The latter, it would seem, will always equal the former no 
matter how great it may be. The fact that modern civilization 
employs many thousand times as much art as ancient society 
employed, and continues to employ more and more, shows that 
there is no necessary limit to the extent to which inventive 
genius may benefit mankind. The way to bring this about is 
to increase the demand, that is, to increase the capacity of 
society for receiving and appreciating these benefits. It is not 
the inventor who needs educating but the user of his inven- 
tions, i. e., the general public. As a matter of fact, while in- 
ventors are indeed rare, those who are really qualified to use 
inventions are also rare. It is astonishing to note how few 
persons have any idea of the nature of any mechanism at all 
complicated. When fountain pens were first invented many 
of my friends obtained them and endeavored to use them, but 
I know of none who did not soon discard them because the 
few directions necessary to keep them in order were too in- 
tricate or too troublesome to follow. They gave no thought 
to the principle involved in the mechanism and could not see 
why they might not as well be kept one end up as the other. 1 

1 I am writing this with one of the old-fashioned ones that I have used every 
day for fifteen years. 



206 Objective Factors. 

Every one knows how difficult it is to make servants attend to 
any but the simplest utensils, and housewives are as a rule 
equally ignorant of such matters. Wherever there is a furnace 
or any other of the modern kinds of heater in a house, it is 
found necessary for some person of judgment and intelligence 
to take its management in charge. The female sex, as pre- 
viously shown, is especially deficient in this form of perspi- 
cacity. I have recently seen a lady with a letter in her hand 
approach a letter box, on the lid of which was plainly stamped 
in relief letters the words "pull down," and after going several 
times round it and doing everything but the right .one, finally 
go away and give her letter to a drug store clerk to mail 
for her. 1 

Not only can there be little progress in the arts of civiliza- 
tion while the mass of mankind has so little power to appreciate 
or ability to employ them, but the progress that takes place is 
an awkward and unnatural one. The public is constantly 
using what it does not understand, involving a vast amount of 
destruction and waste, and making society dependent upon a 
few experts. What is not understood cannot be properly used, 
and condemnation and complaint are followed by rejection, 
whereby the demand is lowered. Old-fashioned and laborious 
methods are preferred to modern rapid and labor-saving devices. 
In these and a thousand other ways society is kept from ad- 
vancing by popular ignorance of the underlying principles of 
art. The worst of all perhaps is the ignorance of mechanics 
themselves. They only know exactly what they are taught 
while learning their trades and the least thing out of the beaten 
track confounds them completely. It is, for example, almost 
impossible for any one who has ideas of his own to have a 
house built in conformity with his ideas. The workmen will 
have " never heard of such a thing," will object and prevari- 

1 An unreflected light did never yet 

Dazzle the vision feminine. 
Sir Henry Taylor : Philip Van Artevelde, Part I, Act i, Scene 5. 



Inventive Genius. 207 

cate, and cause unlimited trouble rather than swerve a hair 
from some fixed rule of thumb that makes every house an 
exact copy of every other. But there would be no end if it 
were sought to present all the examples that occur to the mind 
whenever the subject is before it. 1 

Even if it be objected that the mind cannot be trained to 
invent, it at least cannot be denied that the mechanical prin- 
ciples on which all the most common contrivances, machines, 
and artificial objects generally, which are in daily use are con- 
structed, may be explained and really taught to every pupil of 
either sex. It may be that much of it would be transient in 
the minds of many. This is true of all things. But much 
would abide and bear fruit in later years, while object lessons 
of this class would be less likely to be forgotten than almost 
anything else in education. The recent movement in the 
direction of manual training is the result of a growing recog- 
nition of the need of knowing Jwiv as well as merely knowing 
what. The pitiful helplessness of city-bred persons when 
thrown into contact with nature has long been manifest, as 
well as the fact that the best minds in every department are 
those that have imbibed from an early rural life, however 
Arcadian, some knowledge of nature's ways, which later stands 
them in as an aid to success. It would be an easy and natural 
adjunct to a system of manual training to make it include full 
and thorough instruction in the mechanical principles of most 
great inventions and also of those most familiar to the pupil. 
But beyond this it must be maintained that the mind can be 
trained to look for utilities, instructed to be ever on the alert 
for practical principles and effective adjustments calculated to 
utilize natural forces, qualities, and objects, to set the inventive 
faculty 'to work, and thereby, virtually if not literally, increase, 
develop, and stimulate the inventive genius of man. 

1 Mr. Herbert Spencer has given a number of other good examples in his Study 
of Sociology, pp. 304-305. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

CREATIVE GENIUS. 

The love of the beautiful, both in sight and sound, has ever been and 
ever must be a reliable social force, re'ady to manifest its power on every 
occasion, whenever the great vital demands of existence cease to absorb 
the energies of society. In proportion as man's physical wants are sup- 
plied, and his social and sexual relations placed upon a natural and satis- 
factory footing, the practical arts, the industrial character, and the cold 
business features of human life will be relieved, subdued, and embellished 
by the softening and cheering presence 6f works of art, and by the per- 
petual charm of music and poetry. Dynamic Sociology, I, 674. 

The eye of the intellect sees in all objects what it brought with it the 
means of seeing. CARLYLE. 

In Part I was considered, from the standpoint of its origin 
and genesis, the great primary psychic trunk the feelings 
with its roots far down in the bathybian ooze of organic 
life. Thus far, in Part II, attention has been confined to 
the principal secondary trunk or dominant branch the 
intuitive intellect which began to diverge from the main 
trunk coincidently with the appearance of the highest insects 
and the earliest birds and mammals, near the beginning of 
Cenozoic or Tertiary time. This great branch, as has been 
seen, was twofold, though not bifurcate or divergent, and may 
be figuratively represented as double, or consisting of two 
approximate or contiguous complementary trunks, an active, 
positive, and progressive male trunk, representing biological 
variation and adaptation, and a passive, negative, and con- 
servative female trunk, representing heredity. The active 
trunk assumed the several forms described as intuitive percep- 
tion, intuitive reason, and the inventive faculty ; the passive 
trunk consists of the intuitive judgment typified by female 



Creative Genius. 209 

intuition. These forms of intellectual manifestation were 
developed out of the primary psychic trunk as accessories to, 
and servants of the will, for the better accomplishment of the 
object of sentient life, the satisfaction of desire. With all this 
philosophy has had little or nothing to do. 

At this point is reached the domain of philosophy as it has 
always been understood, which, it is thus seen, only deals with 
faculties or branches of the intellect which are secondary in 
rank and derivative in character, having grown out of the main 
trunk and departed more or less from the original nature of the 
intellectual process. It is safe to say that none of these could 
by any possibility have been developed directly from nature. 
There is nothing upon which any of the primary biological laws 
could seize to give an initial impulse to such faculties. For 
this there is required some powerful motive, and in biology 
that motive always is advantage. There are certain mental 
qualities which are admitted to be exempt from the biological 
law of advantage, since their excercise in no way tends to render 
their possessor any more fit to survive in the struggle for 
existence. Any faculty of which this is true has in this quality 
the stamp of derivativeness ; has, as it were, a modern fades. 
When Schopenhauer insisted with so much force and truth that 
the intellect was a mere accident, a late graft upon the will as 
the main psychic trunk, he had in mind only the intellect of 
Kant and the other philosophers who ignored the great intuitive 
branch out of which these modern disinterested, and therefore 
dependent branches, have developed. His charge was therefore 
doubly true as thus restricted. It would be sufficiently true of 
all intellect, as has been abundantly shown, but intellect proper, 
and in its essential nature, as a servant of the will and a new 
means of securing the objects of sentient life, is as much more 
ancient than the derivative intellect of the philosophers as it is 
more modern than the will from which it sprang. 

Of all these modern, derivative outgrowths of the primary 
and original intellect, the one which seems to be genetically the 



2io Objective Factors. 

most intimately connected with it, is the faculty of rearranging 
the materials in the possession of the mind into new forms, 
combinations, and relations. The old philosophers have treated 
this faculty chiefly in its passive and less important aspect under 
the head of imagination. But its more important aspect is the 
active one in which it is seen as a so-called creative faculty. 
Just as in imagination all admit that nothing can be constructed 
by the mind whose materials were not all there already, so the 
term creative is uniformly understood to refer to the elaboration 
of ideas already existing, the only thing that is new being the 
form, combination, or arrangement of these ideas. But creation 
in this sense differs from imagination in implying that the 
resultant idea is strong enough to produce a motor discharge 
to the appropriate muscles, thus causing the bodily activities 
necessary to realize the ideal. That is to say, the active form 
of the imagination makes something. Here, as in some cases 
previously referred to, language supplies a link in the evidence 
of the primary process afterwards lost sight of. For among the 
first things made by the creative faculty were literary productions, 
and the earliest form of these was the poetic form ; and a poem 
in its etymological significance is simply something made. 

The faculty, however, had a much earlier origin. In fact it 
was simply a development from the inventive faculty, and can 
be successfully affiliated upon that. It was seen that so soon 
as that faculty had fairly cut loose from the lower forms of 
egoistic intuition and began to be independent of the bodily 
desires it took the character of inventive genius, the first work 
of which was the fashioning of objects of utility. Pari passu 
with this intellectual step there was developing a rude esthetic 
sentiment which began to furnish a new attraction and to become 
an end to be satisfied. Its earliest form was probably the love 
of ornamentation, and inventive genius was directed to the 
production of such objects as ministered to this incipient sense 
of the beautiful. This form of utility was felt to be generically 
distinct from the primary form, which related solely to the sat- 



Creative Genius. 211 

isf action of real wants or needs. Hitherto the useful was that, 
and that only, which made existence possible or less difficult. 
It was chiefly limited to supplying the prime necessities of life, 
food, clothing, shelter, protection, and the successive improve- 
ments to these. It was soon extended to the means of increasing 
the quantity and quality of these supplies, and at length to the 
means of obtaining any form of property or wealth. Whatever 
contributes to those ends is recognized as practical, and, as 
already stated, it is inventive genius which furnishes the practical 
arts. Creative genius, on the contrary, while it also yields a 
form of art, ignores the practical and pursues only the esthetic. 
It results in what are popularly distinguished as the fine arts. 
But the distinction is not always well denned. There are 
thousands of useful objects of art which are at the same time 
ornamental, and wherever this is the case, both inventive and 
creative genius have been at work ; the useful part has resulted 
from the former and the esthetic part from the latter. One of 
the great departments of fine art, viz., architecture, occupies an 
intermediate place between the two. History shows that at the 
outset domestic architecture belonged exclusively to the practical 
arts while religious architecture was chiefly a fine art. In many 
parts of the world this is still largely the case. In the large cities 
of Mexico the only buildings over two stories in height are the 
churches and these are almost the only ones that are at all 
embellished. In such lands it would seem that God alone is 
thought worthy to dwell in a beautiful house. 

It thus appears that creative genius is near akin to inventive 
genius, and it is this close relationship that makes it necessary 
when seeking the genesis of the intellectual faculties to place 
it first in the secondary or derivative series. Inventive genius 
is itself derivative, since it makes its own operations and 
products an end instead of a means to the great end of being, 
but the obvious identity of its modus operandi with that of the 
inventive faculty in its primary form, where this was not the 
case, renders it impossible to separate them in a logical arrange- 



212 Objective Factors. 

ment of the intellectual faculties. It is here, within the life 
history of that form of intuition, that the first divergence from 
the primordial egoistic type took place. But creative genius, 
which has cut loose not only from self but from everything 
practical and is following after the esthetic alone, constitutes 
a distinct branch of the intellect, leading far away from the 
original intuitive trunk. 

The divergence of creation from invention may be explained 
in the following manner: In dealing with the actual materials 
and forces of nature the mind found itself constantly hemmed 
in by facts. It could only go so far when it would gladly go 
farther. The brain had registered a thousand perceptions from 
observation and experience which could not be realized in the 
inventive product. That could only embody so much as could 
be made to conform to the actual environment. An invention 
is therefore a compromise between the ideal of the inventor 
and the hard facts of nature. To be useful it must respect 
the latter. Practical art can only rise so high. Above the 
limit its practical character is lost and it becomes merely 
ornamental. But the mind itself, untrammeled by material 
conditions, possesses the power of selecting from among all its 
airy materials just such as it esteems the best, and of combining 
these into any desired form, thus mentally realizing its highest 
ideal. And having thus constructed a mental image the passion 
for beauty is often strong enough to impel the execution of this 
ideal with greater or less fidelity and its reproduction in visible 
or audible form by means of the appropriate material adjust- 
ments. This latter part is always the result of skill prompted 
by vivid mental representative power and usually prolonged 
labor. In the execution of a statue or a painting, or in the 
production of a poem or a romance, the mind is set free from 
the stern realities of the world, unimpeded by the properties 
of material bodies or the nature of physical forces, and only 
limited by the mental and muscular powers of representation 
and execution, and the tools and materials employed in the 



Creative Genius. 213 

work. But objects thus created can have no practical value 
in the popular sense; they can only contribute to esthetic 
gratification. 

Schopenhauer maintained that this pursuit of pure ideals, 
this contemplation of nature apart from utility, might be carried 
so far as to constitute a denial of the will to live, and a complete 
identification of the subject with the object. This is one of 
the few cases in which his zeal for a favorite theory led him 
astray from the path of sound logic. For he rightly maintained 
that pleasure was the satisfaction of desire and that the will 
was a blind pursuit of pleasure. He also held that the denial 
of the will was an abnegation of pleasure and if complete 
would reduce life itself to zero. And yet in his apotheosis of 
art we actually find him using language which implies the 
recognition of pleasure derived from the act of denying the 
will. Such expressions as " esthetic enjoyment" (dsthetiscJier 
Gennss], " joy in the beautiful" (Freude am Schoneri), " happi- 
ness and mental repose" (Seligkeit ^tnd Geistesruhe), as well as 
his stronger statements that the pure willless cognition of the 
beauty of nature is the only pure happiness, and that moments 
in which we are freed from the pressure of the will are the 
happiest that we know, betray a remarkable confusion in his 
ideas both of pleasure and will. 

This point of view is of interest here in illustrating the 
important fact that with the creative faculty, and to a great 
degree with the inventive genius, the will itself in Schopen- 
hauer's acceptation took on a considerable extension; that 
the brain had now become an emotional center and seat of 
enjoyment, and that henceforth the mind itself was to have 
desires to satisfy, and to become in so far itself a dynamic 
factor or psychic force. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

SPECULATIVE GENIUS. 

The developing intellect was at the outset placed face to face with two 
classes of phenomena, not indeed genetically distinct, but whose extremes 
present vast differences in many respects. One class embraced the simple 
mechanical phenomena which lie upon the surface of nature, and which 
were fortunately of the greatest immediate practical importance to the 
physical life of the race. The other class embraced all the deeper cosmical 
phenomena, of vast importance to a developed race, but with which primitive 
man really need have had little to do. The lower animals do not appear to 
have any thoughts whatever about this class of natural events, although 
they manifest considerable acquaintance with the other class which mate- 
rially improves their ability to provide their own subsistence. But to the 
uninstructed intellect of primitive man no distinction in point of importance 
was recognized between these two classes of phenomena, and it immediately 
began to manufacture beliefs from both classes alike. The impossibility 
of comprehending those of the deeper and more recondite class led at once 
to the adoption of all the errors attendant upon the fundamentally erroneous 
supernatural explanation, and gave rise to religion as an inseparable element 
in the future culture and progress of the race. Dynamic Sociology, II, 
273-274. 

So far as the development of brain mass and consequent brain power is 
concerned, it must be conceded that no " character " could possibly be more 
directly the subject of natural selection, since the primal quality of brain is 
cunning, and this is more important in fitting a creature to survive than any 
other attribute. It is, therefore, only in the cases of certain derivative 
faculties that have little or nothing to do with the fitness to survive, many 
of them rendering man unfit and almost helpless in the struggle for existence, 
that we find the really strong claims of those who advocate the doctrine of 
the inheritance of acquired mental qualities, or post-natal increments to 
faculties already existing. What are these qualities? Dr. Wallace believes 
them to consist chiefly of the mathematical, the esthetic (sculpture, painting, 
etc.), and the musical ; but he also very properly mentions the power of 
abstract reasoning, the metaphysical faculty, or talent for abstruse specula- 
tion, that which gives rise to wit and humor, and the moral or ethical 
attributes. Others might be enumerated, such as the talent for scientific 



Speculative Genius. 215 

observation, for laboratory experimentation, for mechanical invention, and 
for literary research ; and, in general, all the powers of mental application, 
abstraction, and attention, of study, and of investigation, by which knowl- 
edge has been increased. 7'ke Forum, Vol. XI, New York, May, 1891, 
PP. 3I5-3I6. 

The power of Thought, the magic of the Mind ! BYRON : The Corsair, 
Canto i, Stanza 8. 

On earth there is nothing great but man ; in man, there is nothing great 
but mind. SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON. 

In the evolution of the human mind, the instinct of cosmic interrogation 
follows hard upon the instinct of self-preservation. J. W. POWELL. 

Under the head of speculative genius I shall include all the 
disinterested or non-egoistic intellectual faculties or attributes 
not embraced by either inventive genius or creative genius as 
above defined.- As the former was extended to include the 
faculty of scientific discovery, which might also in a certain 
sense be called speculative, we are here chiefly limited to what 
is commonly embraced under the term philosophy as distin- 
guished from science, and have now to inquire what the 
attributes are that speculative philosophy in its widest sense 
calls into exercise. We are also concerned with the precise 
manner in which, and the particular egoistic faculty out of 
which, these attributes have been developed. Following the 
genetic method which has been employed from the first it will 
be necessary to seek an answer to the last of these questions 
first, in the hope that this may lead to a solution of the others. 

The inventive faculty after it threw off its allegiance to the 
will, or, more properly, after it had created a new conative 
center in the brain, began, as was shown, to busy itself with 
the wider relations subsisting between all the observed facts 
of nature, whereby it was able to discover truth and lead the 
way to science. Still having as its primary purpose the dis- 
cernment of utilities, first to self and later to all men, it 
nevertheless soon encountered relations and began to discover 



2 1 6 Objective Factors. 

truths whose utility either to self or to mankind was doubtful 
or even imperceptible truths which were beyond its power 
to seize upon and convert through any exercise of ingenuity to 
human use. The sun, moon, and stars were perceived to have 
definite relations of direction, motion, and distance from one 
another, but the mind had no power to modify these relations. 
The mountains loomed up in the distant horizon against the 
background of sky, but no effort of will or of muscle could 
raise or lower them or alter their form. The sea lashed the 
beach with its incessant roar, but man was powerless to 
increase or diminish its rhythmic ebb and flow. The rivers 
swept on in their never-ceasing rush and murmur resistless for 
the puny arms of man. The clouds sped across the sky or 
floated in fantastic ever-changing forms far above and beyond 
the reach of earth-chained mortals. And so it was on all 
sides. Everywhere he gazed, man beheld objects and phe- 
nomena over which he had no control, and which were to him 
incomprehensible, inscrutable, and unchangeable. 

Of all the relations that the intellect most strenuously 
sought to grasp, that of causation was the most fascinating. 
The principle of sufficient reason was the one which most 
strongly asserted itself, for it was only through this that the 
inventive faculty had been able to direct the simpler and more 
comprehensible relations within its scope. And it is possible 
that the still egoistic intellect in striving to master these wider 
relations may have been, at least 'at first, largely influenced by 
a vague sense that could it but once understand them it might 
bend even these to its selfish uses. When storms and floods 
and thunderbolts rode and dashed through the abodes of men 
scattering havoc, destruction, and death in their path, there 
might, at least, have lurked in the audacious brain of the being 
who had already grown to be the master of so large a part of 
nature the irreverent belief that these too would yet be made 
to feel his power and bow in suppliance to his ambitious 
will. 



Speculative Genius. 217 

Thus began the great and long-protracted quest on the part 
of the growing intellect of man for the causes of the unex- 
plained and irresistible phenomena of nature. Its own power 
and its own ways it well knew. The power and the ways of 
nature it knew not, but what could be more natural than to 
project itself behind the phenomena of nature and to postulate 
the same or similar causes and methods with those which it 
employed? The first explanation which man was led to offer 
for the phenomena of the universe was the anthropomorphic 
explanation, and this, it is scarcely too much to say, is still the 
current explanation of all phenomena for which no natural 
explanation is known. It would carry me too far afield to^ 
undertake to point out in detail how the anthropomorphic 
theory of the universe became at the same time the theo- 
logical one, but such appears to have been uniformly the case. 
Whether the man-power behind nature was contemplated as 
single and the theology made monotheistic, or whether, as was- 
the far more common case, it was regarded as multiple and the 
theology made polytheistic, in either and any case the inscru- 
table and unalterable events of nature were conceived as 
presided over by intelligence and will in all essential aspects 
similar to those of man. 

Thus arose the mythologies of the world, and mythology is. 
neither more nor less than theological cosmology. But along 
with the theological there was always manifest a tendency to a 
rational cosmology. The former was felt by the best minds of 
every race to be a sort of ignava ratio, an attempt to escape 
the severer intellectual effort really to explain phenomena, and 
therefore along with it we find associated a great number of 
partly theological and partly rational cosmologies. This was 
the case in ancient Greece as well as in most of the early 
civilizations, and became increasingly so in the two or three 
centuries which preceded the scientific era. Since the begin- 
ning of that era there has been a marked and rapid differentia- 
tion of these two kinds of cosmology, so that at the present time 



218 Objective Factors. 

in all enlightened countries there exists a purely theological 
alongside of a purely rational cosmology. With the flood of 
knowledge which the invention of printing, the circumnaviga- 
tion of the globe, the extension of the world's commerce, and 
the great scientific discoveries of Kepler, Galileo, and Newton 
poured in upon the world during the i6th and i/th centuries 
the speculative genius of man was furnished with the necessary 
data for inaugurating a rational philosophy of the universe, 
which, supplemented by the additional light of the i8th and 
i gth centuries of scientific investigation, has become, under 
the guiding principles of gravitation, evolution, and the con- 
servation of energy, so complete as to dispense entirely in the 
minds of many with the theological hypothesis, except in some 
highly generalized form. 

But the speculative faculty early took another direction and 
turned itself inward upon itself. It was not enough that it 
should seek the explanation of the phenomena of the universe, 
it must also seek an explanation of those of mind. Here, as 
stated in the introduction, and as frequently intimated in 
different chapters of this work, it was much less fortunate, in 
that it confined itself to the higher and more complex of those 
phenomena. But there can be no doubt that upon these 
difficult and recondite problems there has been expended the 
highest degree of intellectual power of which the human mind 
is capable. The theories set on foot by Plato and his followers 
relative to the nature of ideas and their relations to the outside 
world gave an impetus to the study of the most abstruse of all 
problems, and caused the discussions to be directed chiefly to 
the question as to whether anything really exists except the 
thinking subject. Thus cut loose from its realistic base, 
philosophy, floated for ages in the air and fought the battles of 
the shades. Brought partly back to earth by Locke, Descartes, 
and Kant, it continued the struggle with one foot on the 
ground until physiological psychology at length pricked the 
metaphysical bubble and it collapsed. But it is found that too 



Speculative Genius. 219 

little is as yet known of the occult causes of mental phenomena 
to dispense entirely with the great thoughts of the past, and 
just now there is noticeable a sort of reaction; if not a real 
Flucht zurtick zu Kant, at least a tendency to search through 
the rubbish of metaphysical speculation for certain golden 
grains that are found buried in it, and to bring these forth and 
confront them with the facts that science has revealed. Every- 
where now-a-days one sees evidence of a sort of catabasis from 
the high throne of pure reason and pure intellect to the 
humbler sphere of feeling and will, and from the regions of 
abstraction, reflection, and speculation to the simpler fields 
of intuitive intellection, for it is here only that there is 
hope of finding a true scientific basis for the philosophy of 
mind. 

Two other great fields for the operation of the speculative 
genius need to be mentioned, those of logic and mathematics. 
This form of the faculty must be regarded as the most remote 
from the egoistic base of mind. We have seen the intellect 
leaving self to revel in the search for universal utilities ; we 
have seen it leave utility to sport with the phantoms of its 
own creation ; we have seen it wrapped up in the objective 
contemplation of the macrocosm without and the microcosm 
within. We are now to behold it abandoning everything 
material and losing itself in the purely hypothetical and the 
purely abstract. For such is logic and such is geometry, which 
may be taken as the type of mathematical ideation. Of these 
two fields, that of logic is the most purely abstract, since 
geometry may be regarded simply as the application of logic to 
quantity. Logic deals only with the forms of thought, and 
therefore requires complete intellectual abstraction. While 
mathematics is the test or criterion of all science, logic is the 
test or criterion of all reasoning. Untrammeled by facts or 
concrete conditions, mathematics reaches the absolutely exact, 
and all the sciences in the hierarchy seek to approach as closely 
as possible to its perfect standard. Similarly logic affords the 




22O Objective Factors. 

laws or canons by which all the intellectual operations must 
square themselves. 

But it is not the nature of these intellectual domains that 
specially concern us, except as this helps us to see how the 
mind must operate under such circumstances. In mathematics 
everything is divested of all attributes except those of quantity 
or number. In logic they are divested of all physical attributes 
whatever, and reduced to pure intellectual relations. Not, of 
course, that these quantitative and intellectual relations are not 
capable of being afterward clothed with a material garb and 
applied to concrete facts and real things. This is the use and 
purpose of both logic and mathematics. But before this can 
be done laws must be discovered which are capable of fitting 
all possible cases, and in order to do this they must be made 
absolutely abstract and without condition or dependence upon 
anything in nature. Abstract reasoning, as it is called, may 
therefore be regarded as the highest stage which has been 
attained by the human mind, measuring the ascent exclusively 
by the degree of divergence from the purely concrete, inter- 
ested, egoistic base of the intuitive reason. This form of 
development, however, is by no means necessarily a progress in 
the direction of practical importance. No amount of abstract 
reasoning could save the race from destruction under the law 
o competition, and not one of the derivative faculties con- 
sidered in this chapter and the last have the least value in 
rendering its possessor capable of survival in the general 
struggle for existence. This is why it is necessary to exempt 
them from the law of natural selection, and the fact that they 
aye developed is the strongest proof that has ever been 
resented that a faculty strengthened by use transmits to 
sterity the increment acquired during the life in which it 
has been exercised. There is no other way of explaining the 
increase. The fortuitous commingling of favorable germs 
which is offered by Weismann and his disciples as an explana- 
tion, is unintelligible and wholly inadequate, and we are forced 



Speculative Genius. 221 

to conclude that these biologically useless acquired characters 
are really transmitted. 1 

But it will not do to underrate the value of speculative 
genius to civilization. Invention and scientific discovery have 
furnished the material factors of civilization, but generalization 
and speculation, with all the aids of philosophy and scientific 
reasoning, have given the world an intellectual civilization, 
without which material progress would have little value. 2 

1 It would be out of place to argue this point here. I have done this elsewhere. 
See N"eo-Darwinism and Neo-Lamarckism : Proc. Biol. Soc. Washington, Vol. VI, 
1891, pp. 11-71 ; The Transmission of Culture : The Forum, Vol. XI, New York, 
May, 1891, pp. 312-319; Weismann's New Essays: Public Opinion, Vol. XIII, 
Washington and New York, Sept. 10, 1892, p. 559. 

2 Scientific methods bear the same relation to intellectual progress that tools, 
instruments, machines mechanical contrivances of all sorts bear to material 
progress. They are intellectual contrivances indirect ways of attaining results 
too hard for bare, unaided intellectual strength. As the civilized man is little, if 
at all, superior to the savage in bare-handed strength of muscle, and the enormous 
superiority of the former in accomplishing material results is wholly due to the 
use of mechanical contrivances ; even so in the higher sphere of intellect, the 
scientific man boasts no superiority over the uncultured man in bare, unaided 
intellectual power. The amazing intellectual results achieved by modern science 
are due wholly to the use of intellectual contrivances or scientific methods. As in 
the lower sphere of material progress the greatest benefactors of the race are the 
inventors or perfectors of new mechanical contrivances or machines, so in the 
higher sphere of intellectual progress, the greatest benefactors of our race are the 
discoverers or perfectors of new intellectual contrivances or scientific methods. 
Joseph Le Conte : Relation of Biology to Sociology. The Berkeleyan, May, 
1887, Vol. XXIII, p. 123 (separately paged reprint, pp. 4-5). 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE INTELLECT. 

The mind-force, as popularly understood, is no force, but only a condition. 
It does not propel, it only directs. It is not mind, except within the narrow 
limits of this definition, that achieves the vast results which civilization 
presents, and which, it must be admitted, could not be achieved without it. 
It is the great social forces which we have been passing in review that 
have accomplished all this. Mind simply guides them in their course. The 
office of mind is to direct society into unobstructed channels, to enable 
chese forces to continue in free play, to prevent them from being neutralized 
by collision with obstacles in their path. In a word, mind has for its 
function in civilization to preserve the dynamic and prevent the statical 
condition of the social forces, to prevent the restoration of equilibrium 
between the social forces and the natural forces operating outside of them. 
Just as it is not psychological force which propels the water-wheel or the 
piston which could not, nevertheless, be made to operate without it 
but merely the forces of gravity and gaseous expansion compelled by 
mechanical power under the guidance of intelligence to operate for the 
benefit of man, so it is not mind which moves the civilization of the world, 
but only the great and never-ceasing forces of society, which but for the 
guidance of mind would rush blindly on into a thousand entanglements 
with rival forces, and assume that position of statical equilibrium which 
represents social stagnation. Dynamic Sociology, I, 698-699. 

Alle Physikotheologie ist eine Ausfiihrung des, der Wahrheit entgegen- 
stehenden, Irrthums, dass namlich die vollkommenste Art der Entstehung 
der Dinge die durch Vermittelung eines Intellekts sei. Daher eben schiebt 
diselbe aller tiefern Ergriindung der Natur einen Riegel vor. SCHOPEN- 
HAUER : Welt als Wille, II, 305. 

L'histoire de la civilisation peut se re'sumer en six mots : plus on sait, 
plus on peut. EDMOND ABOUT : A B C du Travailleur, p. 39. 

The long, dark, and winding path that has been followed in 
the preceding thirty chapters, beginning with Chap. II, has 
only brought us to the point from which mental philosophy set 
out, viz., to the intellect. It was seen to exist, but no one 



The Intellect. 223 

ever attempted to inquire how it came to exist. This has 
been our special task, and if a way has been opened to a true 
explanation of the origin and development of the intellect, that 
task has been performed. But Bacon declares vere scire esse 
per causas scire, and if the logic of this book is sound we may 
claim truly to know something about the intellect. Much is 
being said about psychogenesis, and laudable attempts are being 
made to explain the genesis of mind, but in most of this it is 
only its ontogenesis the history of its development in the 
individual that has engaged attention. Far more important 
is its phylogenesis the history of its development in the race. 
A bare outline of this field was sketched in the fifth chapter of 
Dynamic Sociology, but its inadequacy was even then clearly 
felt, and its only purpose was to place the phenomena of mind 
in their proper relations to those of life on the one hand, and 
those of society on the other. While the present work may 
be looked upon as an expansion of that chapter, still it could 
not have been written then, because its matter had not been 
fully thought out, and because several great fields had not as 
yet been opened up to my mind. Its defectiveness from 
similar causes is still manifest, and others with the aid of 
better light will doubtless soon remedy much of this; but it is 
to be hoped that no backward step will be taken, and that the 
real origin and nature of mind will yet be made known to men. 
Time was, and not long agone, when life was looked upon 
simply as an observed fact. Now, thanks to Darwin and his 
predecessors and successors, it is seen as a development, and 
there is no good reason why mind as a whole, or even the 
intellect, as the latest expression of the psychic law, should 
not also be recognized as having had a cause, an origin, and a 
history. The reason will never be satisfied with any fact until 
its source is known. All antiquity was doomed to know the 
river Nile only as a fact, but Nili caput qucerere became a 
proverb that then expressed the restless dissatisfaction of the 
time with such a state of things, and still expresses the cease- 



224 Objective Factors. 

less effort that will ever be put forth to explore the unknown 
source of every stream of knowledge. The theologian may 
pronounce it irreverent and the positivist declare it useless, 
but the search for the beginnings of things will still go on and 
the hidden secrets of Nature will be laid bare. 

The intellect thus seen in perspective across the expanse of 
time stands out in the foreground in a hitherto unknown clear- 
ness. All the past philosophy of mind, centering as it has 
upon this one faculty, however voluminous, brilliant, or pro- 
found, was incapable of thus bringing it out into bold relief. 
It is seen as a becoming, as a begotten child, as a product, as 
a reality. Nihilism, idealism, and all the other 'isms of the 
schools are banished, and psychology as a true natural science 
succeeds metaphysics as astronomy succeeded astrology, chem- 
istry alchemy, and biology the magic freaks of the mysterious 
archaeus. 

Continuing the comparison with biology, primary intuition, 
as described in Chapters XXI and XXII, may be likened to 
protoplasm or to the simplest protozoans, such as the Amoeba, 
while the developed intellect would represent the highest 
types of animals. Intuition, as there stated, is intellect, and 
embodies the whole of that faculty, just as protoplasm embodies 
all there is in life. But like protoplasm again, intuition is 
absolutely simple and undifferentiated. It is a homogeneous 
property containing within it the germs or potencies of all the 
intellectual faculties subsequently to be evolved from it. In it 
are to be found in an undeveloped state the intuitive percep- 
tion, reason, and judgment, the inventive faculty, and the 
inventive, creative, and speculative genius, which form the 
subjects of succeeding chapters. 

While the intellect as thus constituted embraces the entire 
thinking part of the mind, all of mind that is not feeling, it is 
nevertheless important to distinguish it carefully from several 
other things with which it is sometimes confounded, at least by 
those who are not in the habit of analyzing mental operations. 



The Intellect. 225 

^Z? 

First, it may^seem scarcely necessary to say that it is of a 
purely j>gycni_c, and not at all of a physiological nature. Like 
all psychic\phenomena its operations are correlated with actual 
movements taking place in the brain and higher ganglia, 
doubtless in tn& strict relation of effect to cause, but these 
operations are pu^ psychoses and must not be confounded 
with those neuroses which form their physical basis. It may 
not be out of place to remark here, although the remark applies 
equally to the subjective phenomena treated in Part I, that this 
relation of mind to its physical base does not seem to me to 
embody any such profound mystery as most writers ascribe 
to it. I think that the habit of imagining an impassable gulf 
between body and mind has arisen from the time-honored 
belief in the ontological nature of the mind. If it should ever 
be possible to escape from that preconception and view, mind 
simply in the light of a property, the mystery would forthwith 
vanish. It may be truly said that any property involves 
mystery. Why the peculiar molecular constitution and arrange- 
ment of glycerine should render that substance sweet, or of 
quinine should render that bitter, is as mysterious as that the 
molecular constitution and arrangement of protoplasm should 
impart to that substance vital properties, or as that the organ- 
ization of the brain should give it the capacity to know. Yet 
no one descants on the wonderful preestablished harmony 
which makes salt saline and potash alkaline. These are simply 
the known properties of these substances, believed by chemists 
to be due to their chemical constitution, although they could 
never have been inferred or predicted from a knowledge of 
that constitution. Viewed in this light, mind in general, and 
thought in particular, are rescued from the dominion of magic 
under which the very latest works still persist in holding them, 
and are placed in the same scientific position that is conceded 
to all other phenomena that it is proposed to investigate. If I 
were asked to specify the most serious obstacle which now 
stands in the way of psychologic progress I should not hesitate 



226 Objective Factors. 

to name as such this lingering notion of the necessary entity 
of mind. 

In the second place intellect must not be confounded with 
consciousness. Few, it is true, are likely to do this, but some 
are disposed to look upon consciousness as embodying the sum 
total of the knowing faculty. Under that head Sir William 
Hamilton grouped all the phenomena treated in his course of 
lectures on metaphysics. In this, however, he was not wholly 
wrong, for consciousness is, properly speaking, not a faculty 
but rather the condition of all mental operations whatever. 
When consciousness ceases mind ceases. The exceptions that 
will present themselves to this statement are apparent only. 
For every ganglionic center must have a consciousness of its 
own, and one must distinguish in the higher animals and 
man between the supreme consciousness and the subordinate 
consciousnesses. Consciousness embraces feeling as well as 
thinking and knowing, and the common expression "uncon- 
scious feeling" is a contradiction of terms. The loose way in 
which Hartmann employs trie term unconscious is, to say the 
least, unscientific, since the Unconscious itself, which he per- 
sonifies, is shown to be intensely conscious. Even the useful 
expression " unconscious cerebration" requires to be qualified 
so as to mean simply that the supreme ego does not take 
cognizance of such operations. But there must be subordinate 
centers that are distinctly conscious of them and that guide 
them along perfectly rational paths, often to the most brilliant 
results. 

Just here it may be well to meet the objection that may be 
made to the fundamental classification of mental phenomena 
' employed in this work, viz., that into subjective and objective, 
as defined in Chapters IV and V. It is held by some that all 
cerebration and ideation are attended with feeling, that to be 
conscious of thinking, the " stream of thought " as it flows 
through the brain must produce a sense of its action. Certain 
writers profess that when performing a mental operation they 



The Intellect. 227 

can detect a distinct sensation in the head, due to the flow of 
nerve-currents. This is probably more than they can say of 
either sight or hearing, which, as has been shown, must be 
attended with feeling, although no one perhaps is able to make 
this feeling rise into the field of the supreme consciousness. 
And there seems no good reason to doubt that cerebral neurosis 
is always and necessarily attended with feeling, as much that 
form which results in thought, as that which results in emotions. 
Otherwise there would be motion, molecular at least, without 
sensation, or an effect without a cause. But this is a very 
different thing from saying that all thought is feeling, and 
that no distinction of subjective and objective exists in the 
phenomena of the mind. Intellection the acts of perceiving, 
cognizing, conceiving, judging, reasoning, generalizing, etc., 
is an objective fact, a complex psychosis, which is capable 
of being contemplated apart from molecular change and its 
accompanying sensations. In and of itself, one may say, it is 
nothing, but it is known by its effects which manifest them- 
selves in muscular action, in the agent doing something which 
he would not ai d could not do without this faculty. The 
greatest " intellect" in the world, if he had never done any- 
thing would have remained unrecognized. It is only by this 
doing speaking, writing, constructing, etc., that an intellect 
can make its existence known, and this it can only do by 
means of the bodily organs. 

The next distinction may be drawn between intellect and 
knowledge. It should be premised, however, that the word 
knowledge has two different meanings, being used both in the 
active and the passive sense. In the sense of knowing or 
cognizing, knowledge is, indeed, an integral part of intellect, 
but in this sense it is more rare. In the passive or objective 
sense, however, the case is quite different. In this sense, 
although intellect and knowledge are entirely distinct things, 
still it is impossible for either to exist without the other. 
They may be separately conceived and treated, but they cannot 



228 Objective Factors. 

be separated in fact. It is impossible for a sentient being to 
move or even for the least important of its organs to act in the 
most primitive way, at least consciously, without its resulting 
in knowledge. For every movement is a reaction from some 
sensation and involves a perception, if it be nothing more than 
that of its own activity. It is true that intensive sensations as 
denned in Chap. V, being so strong, cause the perception to 
be lost sight of and consciousness to be concentrated upon the 
feeling of pain or pleasure produced, and this gives little or no 
notion of the qualities of the object, but nevertheless it fur- 
nishes an experience, and this constitutes an important kind of 
knowledge. The power of perceiving relations, which is the 
essence of all forms of intuition, is acquired through innumer- 
able experiences, primarily due to a multitude of trials in 
exploring the environment, most of which are failures but some 
successes, and through these repeated efforts the brain and great 
ganglionic centers slowly learn by comparison to distinguish 
between fruitless and successful movements. 

Experiences of this conative class are supplemented by the 
regular method of acquiring knowledge through perception 
accompanying indifferent sensation, yielding conceptions and 
ideas and resulting in ideation or thought. Thus without any 
systematic or intentional effort, intellect is constantly and neces- 
sarily acquiring knowledge through contact and interaction of 
the organism with the environment. Fitness to resist the 
hostile elements of the environment consists in a certain degree 
of susceptibility on the part of the intellect to the reception of 
this essential knowledge, and under the law of natural selection 
only those beings that possess this required degree of suscepti- 
bility are able to survive. This results in a true biological 
development of the intellectual faculty. 

But it is well known that developed man possesses a large 
fund of knowledge which is not acquired in this way. Inven- 
tive, creative, and speculative genius is for the most part 
independent of the law of advantage, and yet it is this that 



The Intellect. 229 

requires for its exercise the largest fund and the highest kind 
of knowledge. How did it come into possession of it ? It has 
been shown that the real stimulus to the exercise of these 
derivative intellectual powers is the pleasure which this exercise 
affords. But such exercise, like that of the intuitive powers, 
necessarily resulted in the constant acquisition of knowledge, 
albeit such knowledge was of no practical use to the individual 
acquiring it except in so far as its acquisition was a pleasure 
resulting from the satisfaction of a new and elevated desire to 
acquire knowledge. That such a desire exists in a large propor- 
tion of mankind is a well-known fact, and that it was developed 
through the exercise of the faculties named there can be no 
doubt. This new desire demanding satisfaction furnished an 
additional and powerful stimulus to intellectual activity of this 
class, and it is to the joint effect of these two stimuli the 
pleasure derived from intellectual exercise and from the acquisi- 
tion of knowledge that must be attributed the amazing heights 
to which human genius has attained. 

Intelligence, though sometimes confounded with intellect, 
sometimes^wl^a^genius, sometimes with shrewdness, sagacity, 
and ingenuity, is nbf^eof these, but simply predicates a fair 
degree of intellectual capa^kyin possession of an adequate 
supply of knowledge. The quaTrty^of intellect implied in 
intelligence is of a high order but not sobriiliant as to amount 
to genius. The knowledge implied is a L ^acticaSacquaintance 
with those things that^_everyone should know and does not 
include purely ornamental accomplishment. This admixture of 
practical discernment with practical acquirement, constituting 
intelligence is felt to be the best balance of qualities that one 
can have to insure success in life. It embraces enough of the 
egoistic principle to prevent anyone from becoming the victim 
of that principle in others, enough of the intuitive judgment to 
hold fast to present good, and enough of the inventive faculty 
to cope with nature and adversity if required to do so. At the 
same time it does not preclude the possession of any kind of 



230 Objective Factors. 

useful knowledge and recognizes the utility of all refining, 
elevating, and broadening influences. Neither the capacity nor 
(the aquirement necessary to constitute intelligence is beyond 
\the power of the average individual. It is a condition that is 
(attainable by every adult person of sound mind. The intelligent 
man or woman is the ideal citizen, and De Tocqueville's saying 
that representative forms of government necessarily presuppose 
a certain degree of general intelligence in the people is abun- 
dantly sustained by history. 

Finally, it is of prime importance to distinguish the intellect 
from the dynamic agent in the mind. The nature of that agent 
was fully set forth in Part I, and it might scarcely seem neces- 
sary to dwell here upon its fundamental dissimilarity to the 
thinking faculty whose genesis has been traced. But as one of 
\ the principal objects of this work is to show that while the 
\* subjective factors of mind furnish the true social forces^ the 
/- ^ objective factors furnish the guide to those forces, this would 
/ j** seem to be the place to justify the latter claim before passing 
vy to the social synthesis of the factors. This is important because 
.y /j? the idea is so often expressed that mind, by which intellect 
\^ * a l ne is always meant, is a force. Those who take a theistic 
J\$ 'lAfo, 1 " pantheistic view of nature almost unanimously attribute the 
<F Hr [phenomena of the universe to the action of mind or intelligence 
conceived as an omnipotent force, and philosophers of this class, 
if they accept evolution, regard this too as the effect of an 
intellectual, or as they express it, an intelligent cause. Abun- 
dant as are the assertions of this kind they have scarcely ever 
been answered in the only way that is conclusive. Mr. Herbert 
Spencer, however, in replying to views of Mr. James Martineau 
similar to that last referred to, in which the expressions "mental 
force" and " originating mind" were used, very appropriately 
says : " In metaphysical controversy, many of the propositions 
propounded and accepted as quite believable are absolutely 
inconceivable. There is a perpetual confusing of actual ideas 
with what are nothing but pseud-ideas. No distinction is made 



The Intellect. 231 

between propositions that contain real thoughts, and propositions 
that are only the forms of thoughts. A thinkable proposition is 
one of which the two terms can be brought together in conscious- 
ness under the relation said to exist between them. But very 
often, when the subject of 'a proposition has been thought of as 
something known, and when the predicate has been thought of 
as something known, and when the relation alleged between 
them has been thought of as a known relation, it is supposed 
that the proposition itself has been thought. The thinking 
separately of the elements of a proposition is mistaken for the 
thinking of them in the combination which the proposition 
affirms. And hence it continually happens that propositions 
which cannot in truth be rendered into thought at all are 
supposed to be not only thought but believed. The proposition 
that Evolution is caused by Mind is one of this nature. The 
two terms are separately intelligible ; but they can be regarded 
in the relation of effect and cause only so long as no attempt is 
made to put them together in the relation." * 

Besides the wide-spread belief that the phenomena of the 
universe are either caused by mind or constitute a universal 
mind-force, it is not infrequently said that the' achievements of 
man are a proof that the intellect is a force. It is clearly 
perceived that without it these achievements would have been 
impossible, i. e., that it is in some way a cause of them, and 
the distinction between a causa sine qua non and a causa 
efficiens is not drawn. The latter is the essence of a force. 
It is a vis a tergo, impelling whatever is before it. It is in 
this sense that the will is a true force, but not so the intellect. 
This, as already remarked, is only a directive agent. A few 

1 Popular Science Monthly, Vol. I, New York, July, 1872, pp. 319-320. Many 
years earlier, in his Social Statics, Mr. Spencer had used the following language : 
"Jntellect is not a power, but an instrument not a thing which itself moves and 
works, but a thing which is moved and worked by forces behind it. To say that 
men are ruled by reason, is as irrational as to say that men are ruled by their eyes. 
Reason is an eye the eye through which the desires see their way to gratifica- 
tion." See Social Statics, London, 1851, p. 350. 



232 Objective Factors. 

familiar illustrations of the distinction between propulsion and 
direction have already been used, such, for example, as that of 
the wind filling the sail of a ship compared with the helm 
managed by the practised helmsman ; but the reasons why 
the intellect when joined to the will is able to produce such 
enc^mouslyjncreased effects have not been specifically pointed 
out. In Chapters XVII to XIX, however, the preparation 
was made for explaining these reasons. This explanation may 
be introduced by the general proposition that the true secret 
of the efficacy of intellectual action is that it makes nature do 
the work. This is the fundamental principle underlying all 
invention. Man has a power within himself the will but 
this is extremely limited. He can accomplish very little of 
what he desires by the exercise of this power alone. But he 
finds himself surrounded by the unseen powers of nature over 
many of which he has no influence, but some of which, through 
the exercise of his intellect he has learned in a greater or less 
degree to control. He has learned that whenever he fully 
understands the nature of these forces it is possible to direct 
them into channels which will cause them to produce the 
effects that he desires. The phenomena of nature are uniform 
and take place according to invariable laws. When those laws 
are known it is usually possible to utilize them by simple 
adjustments. Great and irresistible as Nature seems to be, it 
is found that as a matter of fact she is easily managed. All 
that is required is to know her thoroughly and to know how to 
control her. The first is science, the second is art or inven- 
tion. This is as true of the simplest tools as it is of the most 
complicated machinery. If it is desired to excavate a tunnel 
through a mountain the lowest class of labor performed in 
such an excavation involves this principle. The gang of 
workmen employed to do the digging could do comparatively 
nothing without their picks and shovels. These are products 
of art. Their adaptation to the work required to be done is a 
result of thought. All labor is something more than mere 



The Intellect. 233 

muscular exertion. The lowest class of laborers are artisans 
in a proper sense of the term. Political economists speak of 
production, but what is production but the work of natural 
forces directed by intelligence ? * Not only is the real labor 
chiefly done by nature but the product is wholly artificial. 
Man does little but direct. Machinery is simply an extension 
of the principle that was always employed. It diminishes the 
agency of muscle and increases the agency of physical force. 

Not only is the force that resides in man comparatively 
feeble, but its effect to secure the ends sought is greatly 
lessened by friction. By this I mean that when uhguided it 
constantly fails on account of the obstacles in its way. Know- 
ing none but the direct method of going about its work in the 
great majority of cases it is impeded or wholly prevented from is" 
accomplishing its object. The only true psychic force^T^ ! 
desire. This in and of itself is unintelligent and blind. ^/The 
poets have happily represented love, which is the type of pure 
desire, as blind, and all languages recognize the truth in the 
expression "blind impulse " (blinder Drang] . So complicated is 
the environment of every living creature that it is only through 
a variety of instincts developed through natural selection, and 
causing animals to perform acts that so closely resemble 
rational ones as to be frequently mistaken for them, that any 
race is able to escape destruction from the barriers to existence 
which the most simple conditions present. These instincts 
are fixed and being only adapted to a given environment, the 
least change in the creature's surroundings, if at all rapid or 
sudden, results in extinction. Man has instincts too, but his 
environment is infinitely more complex than that of any species 
of animals, to meet which something besides instinct is neces- 
sary. One of the principal functions of the intellect therefore, 

1 L'outillage du genre humain n'est pas autre chose qu'une collection d'idees. 
Tous les leviers s'usent a la longue, et toutes les brouettes aussi ; les machines a 
vapeur ne sout pas eternelles, mais 1'idee reste et nous permet de remplacer 
indefiniment le material qui perit. EDMOND ABOUT : A B C du Travailleur- 
Deuxieme Edition, Paris, 1869, pp. 39-40. 



234 Objective Factors. 

is to diminish or remove entirely the friction of his environ- 
ment, and thus to economize to the fullest extent the true 
forces that are within him. It is this greater ability to make 
his acts count by the intelligent avoidance of obstructions and 
impediments, joined with the faculty of utilizing the forces of 
nature that more than anything else distinguishes man from 
the lower animals, and both these qualities belong exclusively 
to the intellect. 

It remains to point out more exactly the nature of what may 
be called the psychology of intellectual direction the precise 
process according to which the intellect works in controlling 
the true psychic, and hence also the social forces. This has 
already been done in Chapters XXI to XXIII for simple in- 
tuition, and again in Chap. XXVIII for the specific process 
of invention, and the principle is the same for the fully 
developed intellect, but a more generalized statement of it may 
now be made. It was seen that the essence of this principle 
is the erection of the means to desired ends into true objects 
of desire, and all that intellect does is simply to report to 
consciousness the fact that a certain act is such a means. It 
then becomes immediately desired, and action follows this new 
/.desire. The simple perception that such indirect action con- 
stitutes such a means is the intellectual act, and of itself 
involves no muscular movement, no desire. It is therefore in 
no proper sense a force. It may be said that the perception 
itself implies a change within the brain substance a neurosis 
and that an intellectual act implies action. This cannot be 
denied. The ' report ' to consciousness of the discovery of a 
means of accomplishing a desired but otherwise unattainable 
or difficult purpose is certainly a psychosis, and as such 
involves some form of brain action or nerve metabolism, but 
it is not the movement which has the effect to contract the 
appropriate muscles and produce the necessary act, not even 
the one that is essential to secure the means. That action 
cannot take place until the desire has been aroused to secure 



The Intellect. 235 

such means, which the intellectual perception has caused to be 
substituted for the desire to secure the end. 

It is also true that all indirect means to ends which intellect 
perceives, involve some muscular action requiring force, and the 
popular view seems to be that this force, at least, is exerted by 
the intellect. With a fulcrum, a long enough lever, and a 
TTOV O-TW Archimedes could doubtless move the earth, and in 
most of the mechanic arts the muscular effort required to be 
exerted is exceedingly small in comparison with the total force 
that is brought to bear upon the object to be moved, still, even 
the application of the lighted fuse made by the little girl that 
blew up Hell Gate was a slight muscular effort. But the force 
that produced this effort was not the intellect. It may have 
been merely a desire to comply with her parents' wishes. Yet 
all the engineering work and all the labor involved in that 
enterprise was directed by the intellect. 

The intellect thus fully fledged is not a rare faculty, latent the 
greater part of the time, and only occasionally brought into 
requisition. It is in constant use and ceaseless activity and 
directs the greater part of the movements of its possessor. 
That is, the most important actions of human beings at least 
are performed under its guidance, and the phenomena of civil- 
ized life are in the main the results of what was described in the 
eighth chapter of Dynamic Sociology as "the indirect method 
of conation." The intellectually directed activities of men may 
be classed under'three general heads ; first, movements of the 
body and limbs under the guidance of the intellect for the more 
certain gratification of desire. This class not only includes 
special and particular acts thus described, but also all the great 
systematic courses of action. Besides the innumerable efforts 
to circumvent, deceive, and outwit others, and thus secure 
unearned gratifications, and besides the devising of the means 
and instruments for deceiving and outwitting nature in the 
same way to the same end, it also includes the entire field of 
human labor of whatever kind, which, as already remarked, 



236 Objective Factors. 

always involves more or less exercise of the intellectual powers. 
The second great class of intellectual activity is that of oral 
communication or speech. Through this art the intellect finds 
a fuller expression than through those of mere action. The 
immense influence which the members of society thus exert 
upon one another, and indirectly upon their general condition, is 
too apparent to require illustration. The third class is that of 
written communication, through which the finest shades of 
thought and the highest discoveries of truth are not only con- 
veyed to all who can read but are handed on to later ages to 
form a basis for still higher flights of intellectual achievement. 
In all these respects man differs from the highest animals 
and it is this difference that constitutes him a rational being. 
For reason, as popularly employed, is nothing else than the 
exercise of the intellect according to the indirect method, and 
while that faculty is feeble and frequently misleading among 
the lower types of mankind, and none too strong or reliable 
among the higher ones, still, all men not only possess it in 
some degree, but they all exercise it daily and hourly and in all 
that they do. This fact should be recognized in any system of 
social science, not merely as a fact but as the prime factor in 
the treatment of such a science. 



PART III. 

SOCIAL SYNTHESIS OF 
THE FACTORS. 



This comparison of legislation to invention is not a mere accidental or 
convenient analogy. So soon as the mind rises to grasp- the conception of 
social forces, possessing all the essential attributes of the physical forces, 
and differing from them only as these differ from one another, the actual 
identity of legislation, as it should be conducted, with mechanical invention, 
as it is alone successfully conducted, becomes at once obvious. The 
successful inventor, knowing as he first must the nature of the forces and 
the objects with which he has to deal, so adjusts the latter that the former, 
though in no way increased or diminished or changed in their essential 
nature, will, by their natural operation, produce results beneficial to human 
interests. The true legislator must do precisely this and nothing else. 
The only difference is, that he is dealing with social forces and objects 
instead of physical ones. Dynamic Sociology, I, 38. 

Throughout the animal kingdom there are found no better examples of 
energetic industry, than these in which the ends which the activities 
subserve are altruistic rather than egoistic. And hence we are shown, 
undeniably, that it is a perfectly possible thing for organisms to become so 
adjusted to the requirements of their lives, that energy expended for the 
general welfare may not only be adequate to check energy expended for 
the individual welfare, but may come to subordinate it so far as to leave 
individual welfare no greater than is requisite for maintenance of individual 
life. . . . They show us that it is within the possibilities of organization 
to produce a nature which shall be just as energetic, and even more 
energetic, in the pursuit of altruistic ends, as is, in other cases, shown in 
the pursuit of egoistic ends ; and they show that in such cases these 
altruistic ends are pursued in pursuing ends which on their other face are 
egoistic. For the satisfaction of the needs of the organization, these actions 
conducive to the welfare of others must be carried on. The seeking for 
the satisfaction which the organization requires, itself entails the perform- 
ance of those activities which the welfare of the community requires. 
HERBERT SPENCER: Principles of Ethics, I, pp. 301-302. 

For where's the State beneath the Firmament 
That doth excell the Bees for Gouernment ? 

Du BARTAS : Diuine Weekes and Workes, p. 1 84. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

THE ECONOMY OF NATURE AND THE ECONOMY OF MIND. 

The prodigality of nature is now a well-understood truth in biology, and 
one that every sociologist and every statesman should not only understand 
but be able to apply to society, which is still under the complete dominion 
of these same wasteful laws. No true economy is ever attained until 
intellectual foresight is brought to bear upon social phenomena. Teleo- 
logical adaptation is the. only economical adaptation. Dynamic Sociology, 
I, 74-75- 

The natural antidotes to monopoly (i. e., where no attempt is made at 
social regulation are counter-monopoly and competition. But these two 
are essentially the same, counter-monopoly being only competition of 
monopolies. 

There is a constant antithesis between competition and cooperation which 
applies as well to the non-producer as to the producer. Cooperation always 
tends to reduce competition, and competition denotes want of cooperation. 
Whether competition can be trusted to prevent monopoly depends upon the 
degree of cooperation, and no equitable adjustment of the various relations 
of industry can be made so long as different industries manifest different 
powers of cooperation. As society is now constituted, it is the non- 
producing classes who cooperate most and compete least, while the pro- 
ducing classes cooperate very little and compete strongly. Cooperation is 
an artificial principle, the result of superior intelligence. Competition is a 
natural law, and involves no thought. Hence those who cooperate thrive 
at the expense of those who compete. Dynamic Sociology, I, 594. 

Nature is extremely practical, though not what men call economical. 
Nature's economics differ from man's in being genetic, involving great 
waste of products. In genetic economy, while no amount of cost is spared 
to produce the smallest result, nothing is ever done unless it produces some 
result, however slight. In human, or teleological economy, on the other 
hand, great parsimony is displayed in the outlay, and frequently much labor 
is expended without result, owing to erroneous interpretations of phenomena. 
Nature never errs, but she wastes. Man economizes, but often looses 
through error. Nature may be called practical, but not economical ; man 
economical, but not always practical. Dynamic Sociology, II, 494. 

L'homme n'est ni ange, ni bete ; et le malheur veut que qui veut faire 
1'ange fait la bete. PASCAL : Pensees, I, 185. 



240 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

C'est ainsi que c'est enfin trouvd provisoirement re'alise', autaut que le 
comportent les tendances ge'ne'rales de la socie'te' moderne, 1'dtrange type 
politique propre a la philosophic negative, qui avait si longtemps demand^ 
un systeme re'duisant le pouvoir a de simples fonctions repressives, sans 
aucune attribution directrice, et abandonnant a une libre concurrence 
priv^e toute active poursuite de la re'ge'ne'ration intellectuelle et morale. 
AUGUSTE COMTE : Philosophie Positive, VI, 334. 

Nos premieres ressources ou, pour parler plus juste, tous les biens de 
1'humanite' sont des conquetes du travail. 

L'homme ne peut ni cre'er ni de'truire un atome de matiere, mais il peut 
rapprocher de sa personne et s'assimiler tout ce qui le menace ; il peut sur- 
tout adapter a son usage et tourner a son profit ce qui d'abord tait 
indifferent ou meme nuisible. Par le travail, il ajoute a tout ce qu'il 
touche un caractere d'utilite' et s'annexe ainsi toute la terre, petit a petit. 
EDMOND ABOUT : A B C du Travailleur, p. 29. 

I have from time to time shown thai there are certain limitations to the 
application of the doctrines and methods of biology to sociology, and that 
in every case such limitation is the result of the introduction of some new 
principle characteristic of humanity as distinguished from animality, of 
reason as distinguished from instinct, of spirit as distinguished from 
matter. This is precisely what, even from a purely scientific point of view, 
we ought to expect, and is in fact necessary. For in the scientific hierarchy 
each science, in addition to the forces and phenomena of the lower sciences, 
deals with a new force and a new group of phenomena, and therefore with 
new doctrines and new methods. JOSEPH LE CONTE : Popular Science 
Monthly, Vol. XIV, February, 1879, P- 43- 

To make a man a machine is to make him anything but productive. 
That such a result can never be realized in fact ?s self-evident; that % it 
should ever be conceived of in thought is an evidence of how little trouble 
even the greatest writers on political economy have given themselves con- 
cerning the real nature of the being with whose actions they deal. If the 
laborer is an engine, his motive power is fuel ; if he is a man, his motive 
power is hope. It is psychological rather than physiological forces which 
keep him in motion. His will, and not merely his muscle, is an economic 
agent, and he is to be lured, not pushed, in the way of productive effort. 
J. B. CLARK : Philosophy of Wealth, pp. 53-54. 

In this chapter the word nature will be used to denote all 
classes of phenomena, whether physical, vital, or even psychic, 
into which the intellectual or rational element does not enter, 



Economy of Nature and Mind. 241 

while the word mind will, for the sake of brevity, be employed 
in the somewhat popular or conventional sense of rational or 
intellectual, the two terms thus mutually excluding each other, 
and taken together covering all possible phenomena. This 
broad classification will be seen to be useful and indeed neces- 
sary, although the specific object is somewhat narrower, viz., 
that of emphasizing the distinction between that system of 
economy which is based upon the actions of the human animal 
and that which is based upon the actions of the rational man. 
The former is the system of the Physiocrats, 1 Adam Smith, 2 

1 " Pas trop gouverner." LE MARQUIS D'ARGENSON. 
" Laissez faire et laissez passer." DE GOURNAY. 

" Qu'on maintienne 1'entiere liberte de commerce ; car la police du commerce 
interieur et exterieur la plus sure, la plus exacte, et la plus profitable a la nation 
et a 1'etat, consiste dans la pleine liberte de la concurrence." QUESNAY : 
Maxime XXV. 

" Tous les travaux des hommes peuvent, en quelque sorte, devcnir productifs 
par inherence, au moyen d'un ordre de depenses conforme a 1'ordre naturel des 
besoins. Get ordre s'etablit de lui-meme. La police ne doit point s'en meler : 
En y touchant elle le confondrait, et elle contribuerait a introduire le desordre 
qui peut rendre tous les travaux steriles." DUPONT DE NEMOURS: Abrege des 
principes de I 'economie politique, 1772. 

2 The views of Adam Smith relative to competition and the natural laws of 
trade are perhaps best set forth in Chap. VII of Vol. I of his Wealth of Nations, 
entitled : Of the Natural and Market Price of Commodities. In Chap. VIII 
they are applied to the wages of labor. He is, however, chiefly concerned with 
the freedom of trade, and his strictures upon all attempts on the part of govern- 
ment to regulate it are found in nearly all parts of the work. See especially 
Chaps. I and V of Vol. II. These strictures, of course, relate largely to 
transportation, and especially to bounties, duties, subventions, etc. The 
following passage, however, relates to exchange, and may be taken as indi- 
cating the attitude of his mind on the relations of the state to industrial action : 

" When the Government, in order to remedy the inconveniences of a dearth, 
orders all the dealers to sell their corn at what it supposes a reasonable price, it 
either hinders them from bringing it to market, which may sometimes produce a 
famine even in the beginning of the season ; or, if they bring it thither, it enables 
the people, and thereby encourages them to consume it so fast, as must necessarily 
produce a famine before the end of the season. The unlimited, unrestrained 
freedom of the corn trade, as it is the only effectual preventative of the miseries 
of a famine, so it is the best palliative of the inconveniences of a dearth ; for the 
inconveniences of a real scarcity cannot be remedied ; they can only be palliated." 
Wealth of Nations, Vol. II, p. 103. 



242 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

Ricardo, 1 Malthus, 2 Herbert Spencer, 3 and the modern indi- 
vidualists. The latter was foreshadowed by Auguste Comte, 
but has never taken any systematic shape except in Dynamic 
Sociology with which the present work naturally connects 
itself. Although its distorted image is reflected in numerous 
more or less obnoxious forms from the mirror of modern public 
opinion, its real character is quite unfamiliar to the greater 
number even of the best informed persons. 

Comte recognized the influence of mind in society and placed 
psychology in its proper position in his hierarchy of the sciences, 
but he refused to regard it as a distinct science, and treated it 
under the name of " transcendental biology." Nevertheless, 
in his discussions he gave considerable weight to it, and laid 
stress on the elements of prevision and the control of social 
phenomena. Spencer, on the contrary, while he treated psy- 

1 " The natural price of labour is that price which is necessary to enable the 
labourers, one with another, to subsist and to perpetuate their race, without 
either increase or diminution." DAVID RICARDO : Principles of Political Economy 
and Taxation, p. 70. 

" Like other contracts, wages should be left to the fair and free competition of 
the market, and should never be controlled by the interference of the legislature." 
DAVID RICARDO : Ibid., p. 82. 

2 The now so celebrated Malthusian law or doctrine, as stated in Chap. I of the 
Essay on the Principle of Population (pp. 4-6,) is as follows : 

" Population, when unchecked, goes on doubling itself every twenty-five years, 
or increases in a geometrical ratio. . . . 

" Considering the present average state of the earth, the means of subsistence, 
under circumstances the most favourable to human industry, could not possibly 
be made to increase faster than in an arithmetical ratio. . . . 

" The power of population being in every period so much superior, the increase 
of the human species can only be kept down to the level of the means of subsis- 
tence by the constant operation of the strong law of necessity, acting as a check 
upon the greater power." 

8 Social Statics abridged and revised ; The Man versus the State ; Justice ; 
passim. 

The Malthusian doctrine is quite clearly restated and reaffirmed in his Principles 
of Ethics, Vol. I, p. 298. Adam Smith's remark relative to speculations in corn 
is almost exactly repeated in the Social Statics (Abridged ed. p. 104) and in the 
Sins of Legislators (see same volume, p. 339) the speculator is characterized as 
" simply one whose function it is to equalize the supply of a commodity by 
checking unduly rapid consumption." 



Economy of Nature and Mind. 243 

chology at length and assigned it the same position, viz., 
between biology and sociology, failed to make it in any proper 
sense the basis of either his sociology or his ethics, both of 
which are made to rest squarely upon biology. His psychol- 
ogy, therefore, which indeed, was written before his biology, 
and largely from the standpoint of metaphysics, stands isolated 
and useless in his system of synthetic philosophy. 

It was early observed that astronomical and physical phe- 
nomena were uniform and invariable, and it was also perceived 
that the actions of animals, though much more complicated, 
follow fixed laws which could be understood and taken advan- 
tage of by man. That the simplest human actions, such as 
those of children, were equally uniform and determinable was 
scarcely more than the result of observation. Nothing was 
more natural than the generalization that the acts of adults do 
not differ generically from those of children, and the wider 
generalization that all human activities and all social phe- 
nomena are as rigidly subject to natural law as are the activities 
of children and animals and the movements of terrestrial and 
celestial bodies, was but an additional short step. The early 
political economists seized upon this specious bit of reasoning 
and made it the corner-stone of their science, formulating from 
it their great laws of trade, industry, population, and wealth. 

It is curious that this altogether sound abstract principle, 
the indispensable foundation of all economic and social science, 
should have led to the greatest and most fundamental of all 
economic errors, an error which has found its way into the 
heart of modern scientific philosophy, widely influencing public 
opinion, and offering a stubborn resistance to all efforts to 
dislodge it. This error consists in practically ignoring the 
existence of a rational faculty in man, which, while it does not 
render his actions any less subject to natural laws, so enor- 
mously complicates them that they can no longer be brought 
within the simple formulas that suffice in the calculus of mere 
animal motives. This element creeps stealthily in between 



244 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

the child and the adult, and all unnoticed puts the best laid 
schemes of economists and philosophers altogether aglee. A 
great psychic factor has been left out of the account, the intel- 
lectual or rational factor, the cause, origin, and nature of which 
were considered in Part II. From what was there said it must 
appear that this factor is so stupendous that there is no room 
for astonishment in contemplating the magnitude of the error 
which its omission has caused. 

Although the question is primarily a psychological one, still, 
it is, as we now perceive, also an economic one, and it will be 
profitable to consider it now from this latter point of view. 
There are two distinct kinds of economics which may be called 
biological economics and psychological economics, or the eco- 
nomics of life and the economics of mind. The word economics 
is here used in its narrow or primary sense. The question is 
one of economy, and it is of the first importance to contrast 
.sharply these two kinds of economy, the economy that prevails 
in the animal world, in the domain of life, in organic nature 
generally, with the economy that prevails in the human sphere, 
in the realm of mind, in the domain of reason. 

Every one is now, since Darwin, familiar with the general 
nature of animal economics. It is the survival of the fittest 
in the struggle for existence. It is the mere physics of life, 
the pure unmodified and undirected psychic forces, as defined 
in Chap. XV, working themselves out in nature. Just as in 
the physical world and the great clash of mechanical forces the 
superior prevail and produce the observed results, so in this 
animal physics it is superior force that counts and might is 
ever uppermost. The animal forces are their instincts, appe- 
tites, wants in short, their desires. These are ever seeking 
satisfaction and only lack of strength can prevent them from 
attaining it. 

It was formerly supposed that organic nature was economical 
of its energies. The facts of adaptation, while they gave rise to 
the theological error of special creation, gave rise at the same 



Economy of Natiire and Mind. 245 

time to the biological error of natural economy. In the first 
place it was supposed that the adaptation was always perfect. 
This was repeatedly asserted and much dwelt upon in early 
ante-evolution days. It is still widely believed with the modi- 
fication that while a changing environment constantly disturbs 
the equilibrium, natural selection as constantly tends to restore 
it. Weismann, in the authorized translation of his Essays, 
allows the statement to stand that "each existing species 
shows the purpose of its being in every detail of its structure, 
and in its perfect adaptation to the conditions under which it 
lives. But it is only adapted so far as is actually necessary, 
only so far as to make it fittest to survive, and not a step 
further." 1 But even this much cannot now be admitted, since, 
as will be hereafter explained, the struggle for existence con- 
sumes the organic energy and dwarfs all beings that engage in 
it. The notion of perfect economy naturally goes along with 
that of perfect adaptation. Nature was regarded as the great 
economist from whom man was to copy. Biologists, of course, 
now know better than this, and yet it continues to be reaffirmed 
by popular writers. Even Mr. Spencer has failed to strike out 
of his revised edition of Social Statics (1892) the remark of 
the original edition (1850) that "with a perfect economy, 
Nature turns all forces to account.' 2 

It is indeed true that nature creates nothing that is neces- 
sarily useless, that everything produced has a possible utility. 
This follows from the genetic method of evolution. Every- 
thing that exists is pushed into existence by a vis a tergo. 
This is the efficient cause, and nature works only through 
efficient causes. The universal life force is perpetually creating 
new forms, and these must be adapted to their environment, 
otherwise they cannot even be brought into being. But this 
adaptation need only reach the minimum stage. If it is suf- 
ficient to insure continuance the end is attained, though higher 
degrees are always being aimed at. The means, however, 

1 Essays, Vol. II, Oxford, 1892, p. 29. 2 American edition, 1892, p. 178. 



246 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

through which this adaptation is accomplished are not the most 
economical means conceivable. They often seem to be the 
least economical conceivable. They are just those that all the 
circumstances of the case combine to produce. Provided the 
end be accomplished the character of the means is wholly im- 
material from a purely biological standpoint. 

The extravagance of these means has become a common 
subject of discussion, and the facts that have accumulated are 
of a surprising character. A few of these were enumerated in 
Dynamic Sociology (Vol. II, p. 87,) but any number of other 
cases might be adduced. Thus in a lecture on the herring by 
Prof. Huxley, after giving 10,000 as probably an underestimate 
of the number of ripe eggs shed in spawning by a moderate- 
sized female herring, he remarks : " Suppose that every mature 
female herring lays 10,000 eggs, that the fish are not interfered 
with by man, and that their numbers remain approximately the 
same year after year, it follows that 9,998 of the progeny of 
every female must be destroyed before they reach maturity. 
For if more than two out of the 10,000 escape destruction, the 
number of herrings will be proportionately increased." * 

Darwin, as all know, was so struck with the redundant 
fertility of the organic world and the necessary destruction 
involved that he made it the starting point of all his investiga- 
tions. One of his earliest observations is recorded in a foot- 
note in his Journal of Researches, 2 as follows : " I was 
surprised to find, on counting the eggs of a large white Doris 
[kind of sea-slug] how extraordinarily numerous they were. 
From two to five eggs (each three-thousandths of an inch in 
diameter) were contained in a spherical little case. These 
were arranged two deep in transverse rows forming a ribbon. 
The ribbon adhered by its edge to the rock in an oval spire. 
One which I found, measured nearly twenty inches in length 

1 A lecture delivered at the National Fisheries Exhibition, Norwich, April 21, 
1881. Nature, April 28, 1881, Vol. XXIII, p. 612. 

2 New York, 1871, p. 201. 



Economy of Nature and Mind. 247 

and half in breadth. By counting how many balls were con- 
tained in a tenth of an inch in the row, and how many rows in 
an equal length of the ribbon, on the most moderate computa- 
tion there were six hundred thousand eggs. Yet this Doris 
was certainly not very common : although I was often search- 
ing under the stones, I saw only seven individuals. No 
fallacy is more common with naturalists, than that the num- 
bers of an individual species depend on its powers of propaga- 
tion'' 

These, of course, are much more moderate cases than 
many that have been cited. According to M. Quatrefages two 
successive generations of a single plant-louse [plant-lice are 
parthenogenetic] would cover eight acres. The vegetable 
kingdom is equally full of examples. A large chestnut tree in 
June probably contains as much as a ton of pollen. Consider- 
ing the size of a pollen-grain the number on such a tree would 
be next to inconceivable. Certain pines are almost equally 
prolific of their male spores, and these pine pollen-grains are 
very light so as to be wafted on the wind to immense distances. 
The "showers of sulphur" that are sometimes reported to 
have fallen in the states bordering on the great lakes have 
proved to consist of such pollen-grains that continuous south 
winds had borne from the great forests of the long-leaved pine 
that border the Gulf of Mexico. Many herbs, as orchids, the 
broom-rape, etc., produce minute seeds in vast quantities, and 
some of these are rare plants. Burst a puff-ball and there 
arises from it a cloud that fills the air for some distance 
around. This cloud consists of an almost infinite number of 
exceedingly minute spores, each of which, should it by the 
rarest chance fall upon a favorable spot, is capable of repro- 
ducing the fungus to which it belongs. 

The defenders of natural economy who are acquainted with 
such facts excuse them on the ground of their necessity. 
They say that it is the only way in which organic life can 
progress. Thus Prof. Grant Allen, in treating the origin of 



248 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

fruits, remarks : " Those plants which merely cast their naked 
embryos adrift upon the world to shift for themselves in the 
fierce struggle of stout and hardy competitors must necessarily 
waste their energies in the production of an immense number 
of seeds. In fact, calculations have been made which show that 
a single scarlet corn-poppy produces in one year no less than 
50,000 embryos ; and some other species actually exceed this 
enormous figure." x The late Prof. E. L. Youmans, the leading 
American disciple of Herbert Spencer, and an uncompromising 
individualist, once used the following language : " Nature 
seems to have been no more economical of her mental than of 
her material resources. There is a prodigality in her ways 
which a narrow philosophy cannot comprehend. Of her pro- 
fusion of flowers, but few issue in fruit ; of her myriads of 
eggs, but few are hatched ; of her numerous tribes of life 
appearing in the remote past, multitudes are extinct ; and, of 
the achievements of her intellect, the great mass is lost in 
oblivion. But, through all her seeming waste, Nature has, 
nevertheless, a grand economy. She gives the widest chances, 
under a system which favors the best ; the failures are rejected 
and the fittest survive." 2 Spencer himself hints at an explana- 
tion of this wide-spread state of things when he says : " Those 
complex influences underlying the higher orders of natural 
phenomena, but more especially those underlying the organic 
world, work in subordination to the law of probabilities. A 
plant, for instance, produces thousands of seeds. The greater 
part of these are destroyed by creatures which live upon them, 
or fall into places where they cannot germinate. Of the 
young plants produced by those which do germinate, many are 
smothered by their neighbors ; others are blighted by insects, 
or eaten up by animals ; and, in the average of cases, only one 
of them produces a perfect specimen of its species which, 
escaping all dangers, brings to maturity seeds enough to 

1 Cornhill Magazine for August, 1878, Vol. XXXVIII, p. 180. 

2 Popular Science Monthly, Vol. V, New York, August, 1874, p. 494. 



Economy of Nature and Mind. 249 

continue the race. Thus it is with every kind of creature. 
And he goes on to show that civilization has developed in 
substantially the same way, ignoring, however, the psychologic 
factor. 

A few writers have taken a somewhat less optimistic view. 
Dr. Asa Gray remarks : " The waste of being is enormous, far 
beyond the common apprehension. Seeds, eggs, and other 
germs, are designed to be plants and animals, but not one of a 
thousand or of a million achieves its destiny. Those that fall 
into fitting places and in fitting numbers find beneficent pro- 
vision, and, if they were to wake to consciousness, might argue 
design from the adaptation of their surroundings to their well- 
being. But what of the vast majority that perish? As of the 
light of the sun, sent forth in all directions, only a minute por- 
tion is intercepted by the earth or other planets where some of 
it may be utilized for present or future life, so of potential 
organisms, or organisms begun, no larger proportion attain the 
presumed end of their creation." And he immediately proceeds 
to quote to the same effect from the article he has been con- 
sidering in the Westminster Review ; " When we find, as we 
have seen above, that the sowing is a scattering at random, 
and that, for one being provided for and living, ten thousand 
perish unprovided for, we must allow that the existing order 
would be accounted as the worst disorder in any human 
sphere of action." 2 

The last sentence quoted from this reviewer is precisely to 
our present point. No one denies that all this waste in the 
inorganic world is necessary, because neither man nor mind is 
responsible for it. No one either will contest that in the long 
run this method has actually resulted in what we recognize as 
general organic progress, although it is well established that 
retrogression may result as easily as progression, and certainly 
has resulted to a great extent. But the algebraic sum is what 

1 Social Statics abridged and revised, New York, 1892, pp. 237-238. 

2 Darwiniana, by Asa Gray, New York, 1877, pp. 372-373. 



250 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

we have, and if there was a beginning in some primordial form, 
as most biologists suppose, that sum is quite a plus. Nor will 
any one object to having nature's method fully explained and 
exposed, and thoroughly taught as a great truth of science. It 
is only when it is held up as a model to be followed by man 
and all are forbidden to " meddle" with its operations that it 
becomes necessary to protest. I shall endeavor still further to 
show that it is wholly at variance with anything that a rational 
being would ever conceive of, and that if a being supposed to 
be rational were to adopt it he would be looked upon as insane. 
Amid all this literature, only a small part of which can be 
noticed here, there has not been, so far as I am aware, any 
attempt to formulate the true law of biologic economics. Much 
has been said of the law of parsimony, which is a very subordi- 
nate one sometimes called into exercise. But of the great law 
of prodigality, which is universal, no adequate definition has 
yet been offered. We have seen that from its genetic charac- 
ter the organic force is incapable of producing any necessarily 
useless form. Its products, while they only rarely possess an 
actual value, nevertheless must all possess a potential value. 
This part of the law may therefore be expressed by the formula 
that every creation of organic nature has within it tJie possibility 
of success. Thus far the biologic law is economical. But, as 
we have seen, only the minutest fraction of that which is 
created becomes an actual success. The definition must there- 
fore have another member to cover this part. Mr. Spencer, as 
quoted above, suggested that it involved the doctrine of proba- 
bilities. This does not seem precisely to express it. It is 
more correct to call it a process of trial and error. The funda- 
mental principle may be called the necessity for certainty, or 
the paramount importance of certainty, while the process con- 
sists in the multiplication of chances. There seems to be no 
limit in nature to the degree of energy that may be put forth 
in the direction of securing certainty. The chances of survival, 
though they may seem to be abundant, will be multiplied a 



Economy of Natitre and Mind. 251 

thousand fold in order that certainty may be made a thou- 
sand times certain. The complete law of biologic economics 
may therefore be expressed in the following form : 

1 . All organic energy results in potential utility. 

2. Actual utility is secured through the indefinite multipli- 
cation of efforts. 

It thus appears that in biology, while nothing takes place 
which does not secure some advantage, however slight, the 
amount of energy expended in gaining this advantage bears no 
fixed proportion to the value of the result. Nature acts on the 
assumption that her resources are inexhaustible, and while she 
never buys a wholly useless article she usually pays an extrava- 
gant price for it. The expressions natural selection and sur- 
vival of the fittest both contain the significant implication that 
the bulk of things are not selected, and that only the select 
few who prove fit survive, while all else perishes. The first 
member of the biologic law of economy may be characterized 
by the term practical. The second member may in like manner 
be characterized by the term prodigal. Nature is therefore at 
once the most practical and the most prodigal of all econo- 
mists ; practical in that she never makes anything which has 
not the elements of utility, prodigal in that she spares no 
expense in accomplishing even the smallest result. 

Nature may be said to be engaged in creating every con- 
ceivable form. Every one is familiar with the wonderful 
variety in the actual forms of vegetable and animal life. But 
these, innumerable as they are, only represent nature's suc- 
cesses. Intermediate between them there must be imagined 
an infinite number of failures conceivable forms in the 
production of which the organic energy has expended itself in 
vain, and which really represent a much greater expenditure 
than that which has been required to create all that exists. 
Again, among the successful forms there are all degrees of 
success. There are the vigorous and robust, rejoicing in a full 
measure of vitality and marching forward toward the posses- 



252 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

sion of the earth ; and there are the weak and languishing, 
which the former class is gradually crowding out of existence. 
Between these there are all the intermediate grades. But even 
the successful are only temporarily so. Like human empires 
they have their rise and fall, and the path of natural history, 
like that of human history, is strewn with the remains of fallen 
dynasties and the ruins of extinct races. 

This law may be illustrated in physics as well as in biotics. 
If the expenditure of energy be designated as the cost of any 
given result, then it may be said in general that nature tends to 
exaggerate the cost of whatever is produced. Thus, it may be 
assumed that the most economical way in which a river can 
flow would be in a straight line from its source to its mouth. 
But even if it were to begin in this way it would soon become 
irregular, sinuous, and crooked, and then more and more 
crooked, until at length the distance traversed by every drop 
of water would be at least doubled. This physical law which 
has been called " the rythm of motion " and rests on the " insta- 
bility of the homogeneous," prevails also in the organic world. 
The tendency is everywhere to exaggerate the irregularities of 
normal development. This is often carried so far as to result 
in the production of abnormalities that cause their own extinc- 
tion. Such were doubtless the strange dragons of Mesozoic 
time, the perhaps stranger mammals of early Tertiary time, 
the still more recent mastodon and mammoth, the moa and 
apteryx, and other wingless birds, while the living elephant 
and other overgrown creatures must also doubtless soon disap- 
pear. In the vegetable kingdom the coal flora is full of 
examples, as is also the less known flora of the Trias and Jura, 
and we still have many waning types, such as the maidenhair 
tree and the mammoth and redwood trees, whose paleontological 
record shows that they are just passing off the stage. Many 
other living plants, either through parasitism, as the Rafflesia, 
or through extreme specialization, as many orchids and yuccas, 
further exemplify this law. Such monstrosities inevitably 



Economy of Nature and Mind. 253 

perish with the slightest alteration in their material surround- 
ings. The progress of organic development has thus been to 
a large extent the successive creation of types that have 
contained within themselves the elements of their own de- 
struction that have, as it were, broken down with their own 
weight. New ones of course have succeeded them, adapted 
for the time being to their environment, but destined in turn 
to outgrow their conditions and perish from the same cause. 
This rhythmical character of organic progress is therefore 
essentially self-defeating, the only progress taking place, if 
any, being the marginal increment resulting from the excess of 
the pluses over the minuses. This is the characteristic of all 
genetic progress. Teleological progress takes place according 
to an entirely different law, involving a true economy of energy. 
In this sketch of natural or biologic economics I have not 
gone into the physical explanation of the reason for the 
difference between it and what I shall now distinguish as 
human or rational economics, as set forth in Dynamic Sociology 
(Vol. I, p. 73 ; Vol. II, p. 99ff.,) viz., that in the former 
effects are only just equal to causes. The organic force is 
applied directly to the object to be transformed, and the forms 
to be created are molded into the required shape by an 
infinite number of minute impacts, the sum of which is repre- 
sented by the transformation effected. No advantage is taken 
of any mechanical principle whereby the effect is made to 
exceed the energy expended, as was shown in the last chapter 
to be the normal characteristic of all intellectual action. There 
is, it is true, a certain class of facts in which natural selection 
imitates rational design so closely in its ultimate products that 
it was formerly supposed, and is still supposed by many, that 
they must be the result of intelligent direction. Sharp teeth 
and claws, for example, are similar to edged and pointed tools 
or weapons, and take advantage of the principle of the inclined 
plane in the form represented by the wedge, and this may in 
some cases be carried so far as to involve the principle of the 



/ 



j 

^r 



254 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

screw, as in certain spirally arranged seed-vessels that bore 
into the ground to plant their seeds. Other cases were 
mentioned in Chap. XXVII. It is also a fact that in the 
arrangement of muscles and the passage of tendons through 
their cartilaginous sheaths the principle of the lever and 
fulcrum is utilized to a greater or less extent. All such cases, 
however, constitute exceptions to the law of biologic economy, 
and only serve to show how instinctively all men recognize the 
distinction, from the surprise and interest felt at seeing nature 
do anything that seems to involve rational economy. That 
distinction is, that the latter is teleological and deals with final 
causes, while the former is genetic and deals with efficient 
causes. This means that while organic forms are merely 
pushed into existence by the pelting of atoms from behind, 
and are fortuitous, or literally chance products, human creations 
are conceived in advance by the mind, designed with skill for 
definite purposes, and wrought by the aid of a variety of 
mechanical principles, such as those mentioned above, by 
which means the energy expended is small, usually trifling, in 
proportion to the result accomplished. The inventive faculty 
of man is the primary application of reason. No other animal 
possesses it, not even to the extent of wielding a weapon that 
is not a part of its organic structure. 1 The beaver, indeed, 
builds dams by felling trees, but its tools are its teeth, and no 

1 See p. 184, supra. This statement, made in my address as vice-president of 
the Section of Economic Science and Statistics of the American Association for 
the Advancement of Science, at the Rochester Meeting in August, 1892 (Proceed- 
ings, Vol. XLI, p. 307), of which this chapter is an expansion, has been called in 
question as contradicted in accounts given by certain African travelers, especi- 
ally Du Chaillu and Biittikofer, of the gorilla and chimpanzee. I have, therefore, 
taken the trouble to investigate the matter and I find that no modification of the 
text is required. The impression, indeed, prevails that these animals, at least 
^\ the chimpanzees, sometimes employ clubs in self-defense ; but no writer has, I 
think, stated that he has seen them do so, or even himself believes that such is 
the case, although there is a common report in Western Africa to this effect, and 
the natives have fanciful notions as to the intelligence of these creatures. They 
usually confound the two animals, and from their observed resemblance to man 
attribute to them certain human actions. The following passage in Biittikofer's 



Economy of Natitre and Mind. 255 

further advantage is taken than that which results from the 
way the muscles are attached to its jaws. The warfare of 
animals is waged literally with tooth and nail, with horn and 
hoof, with claw and spur, with tusk and trunk, with fang and 
sting always with organic, never with mechanical weapons. 
And whatever work is done b" animals is always done with 

Reisebilder aus Liberia (Vol. I, pp. 229-230) probably contains all there is in these 
reports : 

"Der baboon so wird in ganz Liberia der Chimpanse genannt wird allge- 
mein fiir ein iiber den andern Thieren stehendes Wesen gehaltep. . . . Man 
erzahlt unter anderm vom baboon, dass er auf zwei Beinen gehe, wie der Mensch, 
dass alte Exemplare nicht klettern, sich aber mit einem Priigel in der Hand gegen 
Angriffe zur Wehre setzen, mit geballten Fausten auf der breiten Brust trommeln 
und briillen, dass man es meilenweit in der Runde horen konne (also ganz das 
namliche, was uns iiber den Gorilla berichtet wird)." 

The belief of some that the chimpanzee possesses the art of making fire rests 
on still more slender evidence. The same author gives (ibid., p. 230) the follow- 
ing account, made to him by an old African hunter who had spent his best years 
in the pursuit of these and other wild animals in that region, which doubtless 
furnishes the foundation for this and other prevalent notions : 

" Du hast gewiss auf deinen Jagden schon jene auffallenden, reingehaltenen, 
freien Stellen im Walde angetroffen, liber die man sich gewohnlich keine Rechen- 
schaft geben kann. Das sind des baboons Feuerstatten. Die baboons haben nam- 
lich die Gewohnheit, in alien moglichen Dingen den Menschen nachzuahmen. 
Auf diesen Platzen nun tragen sie trockenes Holz zusammen und schichten es 
zu einem grossen Stosse auf. Hierauf thut einer der Bande, als ob er das Holz 
in Brand steckte, worauf dann alle zusammen das vermeintliche Feuer erst vor- 
sichtig, nach und nach immer starker anblasen, bis ihnen zuletzt fast die Zunge 
aus der Kehle hangt. Hierauf kauern sie rund um den Holzstoss nieder, setzen 
die Ellenbogen auf die Kniee und breiten, gleichsam um sich zu warmen, die Hande 
aus. So kann man sie bei nassem Wetter halbe Tage lang geduldig neben dem 
eingebildeten Feuer sitzen sehen." 

There can be no doubt that these animals, like all those of the ape family, have 
great powers of mimicry, and this might readily lead the natives into extravagant 
ideas of their sagacity. That nothing can be relied upon that is not carefully 
observed and verified by scientific men is clear from the following further remark 
of Biittikofer in the same work (Vol. II, p. -350) : 

" Nach den Aussagen der Eingebornen zu urtheilen, wiirde ein ausgewachsener 
Chimpanse dem Gorilla so wohl an Grosse als auch an Korperkraft gleichkom- 
men, und spielt derselbe iiberhaupt in ihren Sagen als Sinnbild von Kraft und 
Klugheit eine bedeutende Rolle. Einige ganz alte Exemplare beiderlei Ge- 
schlechts, die in unsern Besitz gelangten, haben jedoch den unumstosslichen 
Beweis geliefert, das die Erzahlungen der Eingebornen, wenigstens was die Grosse 
betrifft, in hohem Maasse iibertrieben sind." 



256 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

tools that nature has provided through a long course of develop- 
ment, none of which takes advantage of any principle of 
physics further than as already stated. 

It is in rational man, therefore, that the first application of 
anything worthy of the name of economy is made. Nature has 
no economy. Only through foresight and design can anything 
be done economically. Rivers thus constructed (canals, mill- 
races, irrigating ditches, etc.,) are straight, or as nearly so as 
true economy requires, and Prof. Schiaparelli's inference, from 
the supposed existence upon the planet Mars of extensive 
water ways stretching across its disk in right lines, that it is 
inhabited by rational beings, is generally felt to be a legitimate 
one, if the facts are as alleged. Everything that is done 
under the direction of the intellect is as economical as the 
degree of intelligence will permit. All failures to attain this 
maximum economy are due to ignorance to lack of acquaint- 
ance with the conditions of the problem. The degree of 
economy therefore for the same degree of intellectual penetra- 
tion will be exactly proportioned to the amount of knowledge 
possessed. 

Nature's way of sowing seed is to leave it to the wind, the 
water, the birds and animals. The greater part falls in a mass 
close to the parent plant and is shaded out or choked to death 
by its own abundance. Only the few seeds that chance to be 
transported by one agency or another to some favorable spot 
and further happen to be covered up, can grow. The most of 
those that germinate never attain maturity on account of 
hostile surroundings, and only the rarest accidents of fortune 
live long enough to continue the race. To meet this enormous 
waste correspondingly enormous quantities of seed are pro- 
duced. Such is nature's economy. How different the economy 
of a rational being ! He prepares the ground, clearing it of its 
vegetable competitors, then he carefully plants the seeds at the 
proper intervals so that they shall not crowd one another, and 
after they have sprouted he keeps off their enemies, whether 



Economy of Nature and Mind. 257 

vegetable or animal, supplies water if needed, even supplies the 
lacking chemical constituents of the soil, if he knows what 
they are, and thus secures, as nearly as possible, the vigorous 
growth and fruition of every seed planted. This is the economy 
of mind. 

A closer analysis shows that the fundamental distinction 
between the animal and the human method is that the environ- 
ment transforms tJie animal, wJiile man transforms the environ- 
ment. This proposition holds literally from whatever standpoint 
it be contemplated. It is, indeed, the full expression of the fact 
above stated, that the tools of animals are organic, while those 
of man are mechanical. But if we contrast these two methods 
from the present standpoint, which is that of economics, we see 
at once the immense superiority of the human, or psychological, 
over the animal or biological method. The economy is of two 
kinds, economy of time and economy of energy. It has taken 
much longer to develop any one of the organic appliances of 
animals, whether for supplying its wants or fighting its ene- 
mies, than the entire period during which man has possessed 
any arts, even the simplest. And yet such appliances, how- 
ever complete or effective, have not sufficed to enable any 
species possessing them greatly to expand its territorial range, 
or to migrate far from the region to which it was originally 
adapted. Man, on the other hand, without acquiring any new 
organic adaptations, by the manufacture of tools, weapons, 
clothing, habitations, etc., by subjecting the animal and vege- 
table kingdoms to his service, and by the power of " looking 
before and after"- in short, by the aid of reason has taken 
possession of the whole earth, and is the only animal whose 
habitat is not circumscribed. This, as just remarked, he has 
accomplished in a comparatively brief period, i. e., wholly 
since Tertiary time, and chiefly since the glacial epoch. 

The economy of energy is fully as great as that of time, and 
may be regarded as the cause of the latter. It is the result of 
art. It has been seen that the mechanical products of rational 



258 Social Synthesis t of the Factors. 

design necessarily utilize some economic principle through 
which the muscular force necessary to be exerted is less for 
any given result accomplished than it would otherwise be. In 
the great majority of cases the result could not be produced at 
all without the aid of the proper implement or mechanism 
for producing it, and this becomes more and more the case as 
machinery gains upon hand labor. The sum total of all such 
devices form's the basis of the mechanic arts. Few realize 
how completely civilization depends upon art in this sense. 
The utter helplessness of man without the arts is well illus- 
trated in De Foe's Robinson Crusoe, but the author saw 
clearly that in order to enable his hero to survive at all, even 
in a tropical climate where nature's productions were exuber- 
ant, he must provide himself from stores of the wrecked vessel 
with a considerable supply of tools and other artificial appli- 
ances. What was true of Robinson Crusoe, thus circum- 
stanced, is much more true of the great majority of mankind 
who inhabit what we call temperate climates, i. e., -climates in 
which the temperature sometimes falls ten or twenty degrees 
below the freezing point, and where for several months each 
year all vegetative functions cease. One winter without art 
would suffice to sweep the entire population north or south of 
the thirtieth parallel off the face of the earth. 

We are so much accustomed to the terms labor and produc- 
tion that we rarely stop to think what they really mean. 
Neither of these terms has any place in animal economics. 
All labor consists in an artificial transformation of man's 
environment. Nature produces nothing in the politico-economic 
sense of the word. Production consists in artificially altering 
the form of natural objects. The clothes we wear are derived 
chiefly from the sheep, the ox, the silk-worm, and a few other 
animals, the cotton plant, flax, hemp, and a few other plants; 
but between the latest stage at which nature leaves these 
latter and the final form in which they are ready for use there 
are many transformations requiring much art and great labor. 



Economy of Natiire and Mind. 259 

The houses that man inhabits once consisted chiefly of 
trees, clay, and beds of solid rock. These, too, have been 
transformed by labor performed with tools and machinery. 
In like manner the entire cycle of human achievement 
might be gone through. It would be found everywhere the 
same. 

The arts taken in their ensemble constitute material civiliza- 
tion, and it is this that chiefly distinguishes man from the rest 
of nature. It is due exclusively to his mind, to the rational or 
intellectual faculty, That is, it is an exclusively psychological 
distinction. Civilization, which is human development beyond! 
the animal stage, goes forward under the economics of mind, 1 
while animal development takes place under the economics 'ofj 
life. The difference between these two kinds of economics is 
fundamental. They are not merely dissimilar, they are the 
direct opposites of each other. The psychologic law tends to 
reverse the biologic law. This latter law may be briefly 
defined as the survival of tlie best adapted structures. Those 
structures which yield most readily to changes in the environ- 
ment persist. It has therefore been aptly called " survival of 
the plastic." a The environment, though ever changing, does 
not change to conform to the structures but in the contrary 
direction, always rendering the partly adapted structures less 
adapted, and the only organic progress possible is that 
which accrues through changes of structure that tend to 
enable organic beings to cope with sterner and ever harder 
conditions. In any and every case it is the environment 
that works the changes and the organism that undergoes 
them. 

But the most important factor in the environment of any 
species is its organic environment. The hardest pressure that 
is brought to bear upon it comes from the living things in the 

1 Address of Mr. Clarence King on Catastrophism in Geology, delivered at the 
Yale Scientific School in 1877. The principle is not as different from that of 
natural selection and the survival of the fittest as Mr. King seems to suppose. 



260 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

midst of which it lives, and though paradoxical, it is those 
beings which most resemble it that crowd it most severely. 
The least advantage gained by one species from a favorable 
change of structure tends to make it spread and infringe upon 
others, and soon to acquire, if not strenuously resisted, a 
complete monopoly of all things that are required for its 
support. Any other species that consumes the same elements 
must, unless equally vigorous, be crowded out. This is the 
true meaning of the survival of the fittest. It is essentially a 
process of competition, but it is competition in its purest 
form, wholly unmixed with either moral or intellectual 
elements, which is never the case with competition in human 
society. 

The prevailing idea is wholly false which claims that it is the 
fittest possible that survive in this struggle. The effect of 
competition is to prevent any form from attaining its maximum 
development, and to maintain a certain comparatively low level 
of development for all forms that succeed in surviving. This 
is a normal result of the rhythmic character of all purely natural, 
i.e., not rational or teleological, phenomena, as explained a few 
pages back. The greater part of what is gained in the flood 
tide is lost in the ebb. Wherever competition is wholly 
\removed, as through the agency of man in the interest of any 
one form, great strides are immediately made by the form thus 
protected, and it soon outstrips all those that depend upon 
competition for their motive to advancement. Such has been 
the case with the cereals and fruit trees, and with domestic 
animals, in fact, with all the forms of life that man has 
excepted from the biologic law and subjected to the law of 
mind. The supposed tendency of such forms to revert to their 
original wild state, about which so much has been said, is 
simply their inability when remanded to their pristine competi- 
tive struggle to maintain the high position which they had 
acquired during their halcyon days of exemption from that 
struggle, which they can no more do than they can attain that 



Economy of Nature and Mind. 261 

position while subjected to it. 1 Competition, therefore, not 
only involves the enormous waste which has been described, 
but it prevents the maximum development, since the best that 
can be attained under its influence is far inferior to that which 
is easily attained 'by the artificial, i.e., the rational and intelli- 
gent, removal of that influence. 

Hard as it seems to be for modern philosophers to understand 
this, it was one of the first truths that dawned upon the human 
intellect. Consciously or unconsciously it was felt from the 
very outset that the mission of mind was to grapple with the 
law of competition and as far as possible to resist and defeat it. 
This iron law of nature, as it may be appropriately called 
(Ricardo's " iron law of wages " is only one manifestation of it), 
was everywhere found to lie athwart the path of human progress, 
and the whole upward struggle of rational man, whether phys- 
ical, social or moral, has been with this tyrant of nature the 
law of competition. And in so far as he has progressed at all 
beyond the purely animal stage he has done so through triumph- 
ing little by little over this law and gaining somewhat the mas- 
tery in this struggle. In the physical world he has accomplished 
this so far as he has been able through invention, from which 
have resulted the arts and material civilization. Every imple- 
ment or utensil, every mechanical device, every object of design, 
skill, and labor, every artificial thing that serves a human pur- 
pose, is a triumph of mind over the physical forces of nature 
in ceaseless and aimless competition. The cultivation and 
improvement of economic plants and the domestication of 
useful animals involve the direct control of biologic forces and 
the exemption of these forms of life from the operation of the 

1 I have long regarded this as one of the most important truths in biology, and 
am disposed to emphasize it the more because it seems to have been wholly over- 
looked and an erroneous view maintained by leading biologists. I first gave 
distinct expression to it in an article on the Local Distribution of Plants in the 
Popular Science Monthly for October, 1876 (Vol. IX, pp. 676-684), and have 
illustrated it on numerous subsequent occasions (see especially the Forum, 
December, 1886, Vol. II, pp. 347-349). 




262 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

great organic law which dwarfs their native powers of develop- 
ment. All human institutions religion, government, law, 
marriage, custom together with innumerable other modes of 
regulating social, industrial, and commercial life, are, broadly 
viewed, only so many ways of meeting and' checkmating the 
principle of competition as it manifests itself in society. And 
finally, the ethical code and the moral law of enlightened man 
are nothing else than the means adopted by reason, intelligence, 
and refined sensibility for suppressing and crushing out the 
animal nature of man for chaining the competitive egoism 
that all men have inherited from their animal ancestors. 

One important fact has thus far been left out of view. Man, 
it is true, is a rational being, but he is also still an animal. 
He has struggled manfully against the iron law of nature, but 
he is far from having overcome it. He has met with wonderful 

S success in this direction in his dealings with it in the physical 
~ ,world ; he has laid a firm hand upon it in the domain of organic 

if life ; by the aid of well ordained institutions he has dealt it 
heavy blows in its social aspects ; and the suicidal tendency 

jt which it exhibits when operating upon dense masses of people 
f has enlisted against it with telling effect the counter-law of 
jjK ethics. But all this has fallen far short of completely eradi- 
- f eating the deep-seated principle that lies at the foundation of 
animal economics. Aside from these few directions in which 
he has succeeded in partially supplanting the competitive 
economics of life by the cooperative economics of mind, he is 
still as completely under the dominion of the former as is any 
other organic being. 

The fact thus far omitted in this chapter is the principal one 
that it was sought to enforce in the early chapters of Part II, 
vizj that the intellect itselt was developed under the infiuena 



L uence| 
veTop- 



of the purely egoistic law. [TrilFextraordinary brain develop- 
ment which so exclusively characterizes man was acquired 
through the primary principle of advantage. Brain does not 
differ in this respect from horns or teeth or claws. In the 



Economy of Nature and Mind. 263 

great struggle which the human animal went through to gain 
his supremacy it was brain that finally enabled him to succeed, 
and under the biologic law of selection, where superior sagacity 
meant fitness to. survive, the human brain was gradually built 
up, cell upon cell, until the fully developed hemispheres were 
literally laid over the primary ganglia and the cranial walls en- 
larged to receive them. The brain of man was thus itself 
originally an engine of competition. Intellect was a mere ser- 
vant of the will. It was only by virtue of its peculiar character 
through which it was capable of perceiving that the direct 
animal method was not the most successful one, even in the 
bare struggle for existence, that it so early began, in the inter- 
est of pure egoism, to antagonize that method and to adopt 
the opposite and indirect method of design, calculation, and 
cooperation. 

The competition which we see in the social and industrial 
world, competition aided and modified by reason and intelli- 
gence, while it does not differ in either its principle or its pur- 
pose from the competition among animals and plants, differs 
widely in its methods and its effects. We see in it the same 
soulless struggle, the same intense egoism, the same rhythm by 
which existing inequalities are increased, the same sacrifice of 
the weaker to the stronger, and the same frenzy of the latter 
to possess and monopolize the earth. But along with this the 
antagonistic principle is also in active operation. This is the 
law of mind making for a true economy of energy. It is 
mind alone that perceives that competition is wasteful of 
energy, and therefore in the interest of the very success that 
competition seeks, it proceeds to antagonize competition and 
to substitute for it art, science, and cooperation. By the aid 
of these the success of those who use them is increased many 
hundred fold. In society, therefore, competition tends to 
defeat itself by inciting against it the power of thought. It 
cannot endure. It is at best only a temporary condition or 
isrtion state. On the one hand the competition between 

j--eJUv 
J^ 






264 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

men resolves itself into a competition between machines, and 
instead of the fittest organism it is the fittest mechanism that 
survives. On the other hand the competition between indi- 
viduals becomes a competition between associations of individ- 
uals. Such associations are the result of cooperation which is 
the opposite of competition. Economists talk of free compe- 
tition, but in society this is scarcely possible. Only the 
simplest operations, those conducted with the least intelligence, 
can continue for any length of time to compete. The least 
^ skilled forms of labor approach this condition most closely, but 
freedom is here limited by the relations that labor sustains to 
capital. The chief difference between employers and employed 
until recently has been that the former have used the rational 
method while the latter have used the natural method. Capital 
has always combined and cooperated while labor has only com- 
peted. But such is the power of the former method and its 
superiority over the latter that competing labor has had no 
chance in the struggle with combining capital. Latterly, how- 
ever, labor has begun in a small way to call to its aid the psy- 
chological economy of cooperation. So strange and unexpected 
did this seem that it was at first looked upon as a crime against 
society, and many still so regard it. Indeed, all the laws of 
modern nations are framed on \^J^ssumption that capital 
naturally combines while labor natural^ competes, and attempts 
on the part of labor to combine against capital are usually sup- 
pressed by the armed force of the state, while capitalists are 
protected by the civil and military authority of the state against 
such assumed unlawful attempts. This enormous odds against 
which labor struggles in its effort to adopt and apply the eco- 
nomics of mind will greatly retard the progress of industrial 
reform which aims to place labor on an equal footing with 
capital in this respect. 

Competition between industrial associations, or corporations, 
follows the law of competition among rational beings in gen- 
eral, and is only a brief transition stage, to be quickly followed 



Economy of Nature and Mind. 265 

by further combination. Just as competition among individ- 
uals soon resulted in that combination by which corporations 
were formed, so competition between corporations soon results 
in the amalgamation of all in any one industry into one great 
compound corporation, now commonly under the form of a 
"trust." This process of compound cooperation does not 
stop until the whole product of the given industry is controlled 
by a single body of men. Such a body thus acquires absolute 
power over the price of the commodity produced, the only 
limit being that of the maximum profit that it can be made to 
yield. Thus, for example, all the petroleum a country pro- 
duces may be under the control of a single trust, and in order 
to secure for the members of that association of capitalists the 
maximum return for the petroleum, its price will be placed at 
the highest figure that consumers of petroleum will pay, rather 
than, in whole or in part, return to candles or resort to gas or 
electricity. There is no necessary relation that this price shall 
bear to the cost of production. It may be twenty or it may 
be a hundred times that cost, and the profits accruing to the 
trust will be proportional. The same may be true of coal or 
iron or sugar or cotton, and even in the case of breadstuffs 
something analogous can occur through the device which is 
known as " cornering." All monopolies rest on the same 
principle, and they are as common in the industries of trans- 
portation and exchange as in that of production. Not only do 
the railroad 1 and telegraph systems furnish illustrations, but 

1 " It soon became evident also that the competition on which the community 
had counted with so much certainty as a means of regulating the railway system 
failed utterly to be a satisfactory means of securing the reformation of abuses 
and the lowering of the fares. . . . Now and then a struggle would occur 
between competing lines, but it did not last long and was generally followed by a 
relapse into the old way of doing things. Either some sort of agreement was 
arrived at by which both companies agreed to divide traffic or earnings, or to 
maintain rates, or some other device was adopted to abolish competition and put 
combination in its place. Ultimately one road would be bought up by the other, 
and the semblance even of competition would disappear. . . . The outcome 
would be an enormous loss of money, respectively capital, not merely to the men 



266 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

they may be found in the mercantile business of every country, 
in all of which competition is short, heated and fitful, ending 
in the swallowing up of the small industries by the great ones 
in ever widening cycles. 

Bad as all this appears to be, it is by no means an unmixed 
evil. This purely egoistic application of the law of mind to 
business interests still bears the marks of its economic supe- 
riority to the purely natural method by preventing the normal 
and necessary waste of competition. Although this immense 
saving nearly all goes into the coffers of the lucky few who 
chance to control these great currents of wealth, nevertheless 
the maximum cost to the consumers of all classes of com- 
modities thus monopolized is usually less than it was when they 
were left entirely to the influence of competition. This may 
seem strange to those economists who look upon competition 
as the only antidote to monopoly, and who have been taught 
that its normal effect is to keep down prices. But the facts 
are against this view, and it may be worth our while to glance 
at a few of them. I cannot do this more effectively than by a 
quotations from a remarkable paper by one of our leading 
representative political economists : 1 

" I use the term ' waste ' in a broad way to indicate all those 
causes which keep the price of goods higher than they might 
be if the sellers made no effort to attract customers. In 
former times the sellers of goods remained quiet in their places 
of business and awaited the arrival of buyers. If one store 
sold cloth at a lower price than its competitors, the buyers of 
themselves sought out the place and made their purchases. 

who had put their money into the concern, but to the country as a whole. It 
happened at times, indeed, that a road was built merely for the purpose of mak- 
ing some other competing road buy it out, which was nearly sure to be done in 
the long run." The Railway Question. Report of the Committee on Transpor- 
tation of the American Economic Association. Publications of the Association, 
Vol. II, No. 3, July, 1887, pp. 28-29. 

1 The Principles of Rational Taxation, by Prof. Simon N. Patten. Published 
by the Philadelphia Social Science Association before which it was read Nov. 21, 
1889. 25 pp. 8. 



Economy of Nature and Mind. 267 

But those good old days are gone. A seller must now be 
ever on the alert to attract trade or his rivals will soon displace 
him. His store must be upon a good street. He must pay 
large sums for advertising. Agents on large salaries must be 
sent out to induce customers to buy his goods. These and 
many other expenses must be met by any one who expects to 
be successful in trade at the present time. But what is the 
result upon prices ? Are not prices in our stores much higher 
than they would be if the buyers sought the sellers instead of 
the sellers the buyers ? Would not sewing machines and organs 
be cheaper if the persons who desired to purchase them should 
look up the dealer instead of the latter searching carefully all 
over the city for them ? The number of dealers in any article 
is but a small fraction of the number of buyers, and they can 
find the proper store much more easily than the dealers could 
hunt up their customers. ... If a given merchant does not 
use all the familiar means to advance his interests some more 
pushing rival will steal away his trade ; yet is the trade of the 
city as a whole increased by all these efforts to displace rivals ? 
Is any more soap, coal, or shoes sold in this city because they 
are advertised in the street cars? Do all the circulars our 
grocery men leave at our doors, increase the quantity of coffee 
and sugar consumed in the city ? Do the high rents paid for 
good localities increase the whole local trade, or does the rent 
merely indicate the advantage which one rival for the same 
trade has over another ? 

A little thought, I think, will show that a large part of these 
expenses do not add to the general welfare of the city. If 
they are incurred by one of a number of rivals he can gain 
trade at the expense of the others. But if they are incurred 
by all of the dealers alike .no one gets more trade than he 
would have had without them. The merchants must all 
charge a higher price for their wares to make good this 
expense and the public have a burden without a corresponding 
benefit. 



268 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

Another form of waste arises from a great increase of retail 
stores. Each new store has attractions by which it secures a 
share of the trade. Take the shoe stores of the city as a 
sample. Think how thick they are, sometimes several in a 
single block. As they rmust duplicate the stock of goods, 
employ many extra hands and pay rent on many unnecessary 
buildings, is it any wonder that the price of shoes is so high ? 
Notice also the increase of milk and baker's wagons. The 
continuous rattle of their wheels on our streets every morning 
tells only too well the miles of useless journeying they neces- 
itate. These causes are at work in nearly every line of retail 
trade. A recent investigation shows that the number of retail 
dealers in this country has increased four times as fast as 
population. 

Keeping these facts in mind it is easy to see where a large 
part of the increase of productive power has gone. In propor- 
tion to their product our factories employ fewer men, but these 
displaced men have been to a large extent absorbed by the 
retail trade. . . . The same tendencies show themselves in 
the wholesale trade. Each manufacturer or dealer must resort 
to many costly means of preserving his trade, which are of no 
advantage to the ultimate consumer. Each one must do what 
his rivals do to keep himself afloat, but the public must foot 
the bills. Do farmers get any advantage from the intense 
rivalry of the firms who resort to so many costly expedients to 
sell them their machinery ? How much do the whole body of 
commercial travelers, who are said to cost the wholesale trade 
$200,000,000 a year, increase the quantity of goods which are 
annually sold to the American people ? 

This enormous waste is a leading cause of the present 
tendency to form trusts or similar combinations. As soon as 
a trade becomes united in some organized way the whole body 
of these useless expenses can be lopped off, and the resulting 
economy is the main source of the increase of dividends. A 
legitimate trust is an organization to save waste and it is not 



Economy of Nature and Mind. 269 

likely to continue long in existence if it tries to raise prices 
higher than they would have gone if a reckless competition had 
continued. Of course the results of the saving pass largely 
into the possession of the trust, yet saving is better than 
wasting, whoever may get the benefit. . . . 

The effect on prices of the modern system of competition 
encouraging waste is the same as that of a monopoly or com- 
bination. Prices are forced to the upper limit, above which 
they could not go without discouraging trade. When the 
conditions of a business are such that a large expenditure of 
money in attracting customers, will give a merchant an advan- 
tage unless his rivals follow his example, the general use of 
extensive advertising, traveling salesmen, expensive stores in 
fashionable localities, raise prices far above the cost of produc- 
tion. The small dealer who has not the capital to increase his 
trade by such expensive means moves his store nearer to the 
homes of the customers, so that the advantage of locality may 
in a measure counteract advantages possessed by richer rivals. 
A multitude of small stores spring up to profit by the advan- 
tage of locality, and prices are separated still farther from the 
cost of production to allow the dealer to pay his rent and 
secure his living from the small stock of goods demanded by 
the locality. When all these causes get in full operation, and 
each rival resorts to new expedients to draw the trade of others 
to himself, there is no limit to the rise of prices except at the 
point beyond which the people will cease to purchase in large 
quantities. So we have practically the same limit to the rise 
of prices for a system of wasteful competition as for monop- 
olies. If they follow their own interest monopolies cannot 
force prices higher than a system of waste can. To the public 
as buyers, the effect on retail prices is the same under both 
systems. All is gotten from the buyer it is possible to do 
without preventing a sale. 

In the leading professions the same influences are at work 
by which the price of services is forced to the upper limit. 



270 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

The tendency of lawyers' fees is not towards the real cost to 
the lawyer in time and energy, but towards the point beyond 
which people would cease to employ them. And with the 
doctors the same tendencies are even more easily seen. 
A young doctor could not rely upon cheapness to attract 
business. He must in some way get into the good graces of 
a part of the public, take an active part in some church, or 
society, and in other ways get himself into notice. But all 
these means of securing trade cost money, and he must make 
his bills large enough to get it all back and leave enough for a 
good living. 

The old formula about competition reducing prices has yet 
so strong a hold on the public that they do not appreciate the 
changes in the business methods which are now in common use. 
They think that a multitude of competitors in any trade is a 
safeguard to low prices. Yet these rivals find that passive 
cheapness brings little trade. Costly agressiveness brings ten 
customers where cheap passivity secures one. Doubtless the 
public desire cheapness, but they are willing to pay dearly to 
those who aid them in the search. When dealers recognize 
these facts and organize their business on an aggressive basis, 
real cheapness becomes a thing of the past, and prices, in such 
a business, approximate what they would if they were controlled 
by a trust or an intelligent monopoly. 

There are, then, good reasons why we should think of the 
tendencies of wasteful competition towards higher prices as 
having the same results upon prices, and following the same 
laws that monopolies do. When we wish to ascertain the 
effects of present economic conditions we will arrive much more 
nearly the truth if we think of a multitude of our industries and 
trades as monopolies than if we adhere to the old hypothesis 
that an intense competition in them brings cheapness. The 
law of monopoly governs the price of drugs just as much as it 
does of sugar. The retail price has no more tendency to con- 
form to the lowest cost of their production than the price of 



Economy of Nature and Mind. 271 

sugar does under the present trust. The difference is merely 
that in the latter case the increased price passes into the hands 
of the refiners, while in the former it is wasted by the large 
number of persons who get a living by handling and distributing 
them. 

The public think that aggressive competition brings them 
cheap goods, because they assume that the reduction of price is 
a necessary result of the action of self interest in the sellers. 
But the action of self interest may lead a dealer to attract trade 
by expensive means as well as by mere cheapness. In which 
way his self-interest will prompt him to act is determined not 
by himself but by the social condition of the people with which 
he deals. If the people are easily misled and their standard of 
living does not require all their productive power, aggressive 
actio'n on the part of the dealer counts for more than mere 
cheapness. The real limit of the upward movement of prices 
is fixed by the action of buyers and not of sellers. Prices 
cease to rise at that point above which the demand of the 
public would rapidly fall off. For this reason the upper limit of 
prices is the same for aggressive competition as for intelligent 
monopoly. The increased net revenue is the controlling 
motive of both competing sellers and monopolies. The price 
is fixed by that buyer who, if he ceased to buy, would reduce 
the net revenue of the seller." Q'vw iyA-oxCev*_ V-t-ctlv^ V , 

I have quoted thus at length from this extraordinary docu- 
ment because it presents such an array of cogent facts in such 
a lucid manner. Although the authority for the statements 
made is as high and as sound as any that could be desired, 
still they are to so large an extent statements of facts of 
common observation that no authority is required in support 
of them. And still their statement is required, since, as is 
seen, notwithstanding their clearness, the error which they 
are calculated to overthrow is wide-spread and deep-seated. The 
author's purpose in presenting them is, however, widely differ- 
ent from the use which it is here proposed to make of them, 



272 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

and need not be discussed. Their value in the present con- 
nection is primary and fundamental, and fully justifies the 
space they occupy in this work. Better than any other class 
of facts they show the fundamental difference between com- 
petition under the influence of the rational faculty and mere 
animal or biological competition. And if there has been the 
change to which Prof. Patten alludes in the business methods 
of the present and the past, it is a change which has been 
wrought by the greater introduction of the mind element into 
business affairs. Increasing density of population, as all know, 
by the friction it produces of mind with mind, tends of itself to 
sharpen the wits and increase that practical form of intelligence 
which counts in the struggle for existence. But along with 
this there has gone an immense increase in the educational 
facilities 'offered in cities. Not to mention the improved public 
school system and lengthened terms of general study with the 
high schools added on, some of which fit their pupils for 
entering college, there are the multiplied business and com- 
mercial colleges specially adapted to teach young people how 
to transact business, conduct enterprises, and in general to 
"make money." 

Notwithstanding all the hollow cant about the " dignity of 
labor," to work with one's hands in any productive occupation 
* OsTooked upon by all as degrading, and those who do so are 
v ^denied all social position. To avoid this worst of all conditions 
and live by his wits or by some of the more genteel and less 
debasing occupations is the supreme effort of every " intelli- 
gent" person. The effect is to throng the "learned professions" 
with aspirants to this honor ; multiply the town lawyers, 
attorneys, constables, notaries, justices, and "officers" ; breed 
swarms of real estate agents, insurance agents, bankers, brokers, 
and shavers ; overdo all newspaper and literary enterprises ; 
develop a vast army of reporters, stenographers, typewriters, 
and copyists; and make everyone fit himself to be at least a 
clerk, or something besides a mere laborer, mechanic, or artisan. 



Economy of Natiire and Mind. 273 

Immensely overdone as all these departments are, they still 
manage to exist and flourish, and they do this by increasing 
the cost of the products to the maximum limit at which the 
public will use them. How competition of this class can be 
kept up under such influences is well shown by the number of 
"first class restaurants" in all large cities, feeding only a few 
accidental stragglers or wealthy persons, and where one seems 
to be paying almost exclusively for the costly silverware and 
mostly idle retinue of attendants. 

This "aggressive competition " also clearly reveals its origin 
in the mind element as described in Chapters XXIII and 
XXIV. As the embodiment of business shrewdness it involves 
in a high degree the principle of deception. All forms of solici- 
tation are conducted with a view to deceiving the customer. 
The essence of an advertisement is a falsehood. It is an 
intentional effort to make the public believe that the particular 
article advertised is either better or cheaper than the same* 
article sold by rivals, which the dealer knows is not the case. 
Every sale thus secured is therefore really " obtaining money 
under false pretenses," which is nominally a punishable offence, 
but which is winked at except in the most flagrant cases. In 
fact, society is based on the normal occurrence of this form of 
lying^and its legal recognition is embodied in the maxim of 
common law, caveat emptor. 

l, t (Lo-^ 

Such isjthe legitimate effect of competition among rational.)- ' ' 
beings. The law of nature quickly succumbs to the law of 
mind, and whether it continues for a time, or whether, as it ' 
sooner or later must, it defeats itself and results in monopoly, 
the general effect on society is the same. If it be regarded 
as a sad commentary upon the operations of a rational being 
that there is no escape from the necessity of paying the highest 
price for everything that will be paid rather than do without, 
and irrespective of the cost of production, it must be remem- 
bered that it is only the individual that is as yet in any proper 
sense rational. If society itself were rational this would indeed 



274 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

seem absurd, and if it shall ever become so no such absurdity 
will be tolerated for a moment. Those who compare society 
to an organism have failed to observe that in this respect it 
resembles only some of the very lowest Metazoa, such as 
the hydra, which possesses no proper presiding and coordi- 
nating nerve ganglia, or still more closely some of those lower 
colonies of cells, each of which, like the individual mem- 
bers of society, is practically independent of the general mass 

^ except that by the simple fact of coherence a certain degree 

of protection is secured to both the individual cells and the 

* /* aggregated mass. And yet many advocate a still greater in- 

y dependence of the individual, and deprecate all steps in the 
direction of integration, which they know to be the only way 
in which organic beings can make any progress in organization. 
So little have the principles of biology impressed themselves 
upon the students of sociology, even those who profess a 
'synthetic grasp of both fields ! 

The reader cannot have failed to perceive the fundamental 
difference between the, social phenomena above reviewed and 
those that take place everywhere in nature below the level of 
man's rational faculty, and hence, even when dealing with the 
universal law of competition, an entirely different set of prin- 
ciples must be applied to man from those which can be applied 
to irrational life. There competition is free, or rather it is 
pure. It continues as long as the weaker can survive it, and 
when these at last go to the wall and the better adapted 
structures survive and triumph, it is the triumph of a real 
superiority, and the strong and robust alone are left to recruit 
the earth. But when mind enters into the contest the char- 
acter of competition is at first completely changed, and later 
competition itself is altogether crushed out, and while it is still 
the strong that survive it is a strength which comes from 
indirection, from deception, artfulness, cunning, and shrewd- 
ness, necessarily coupled with stunted moral qualities, and 
largely aided by the accident of position. In no proper sense 




and Mind. 275 



is it true that the fittest survive. If this were their only func- 
tion it is evident that brains would be a positive detriment to 
society. Pure animal competition would be far better. It is 
probably the contemplation of the hopelessness of this state of 
things which has given the gloomy cast to Oriental philosophy, 
and it is no wonder that those moderns who consider the present 
order unalterable should maintain that we live in the worst 
possible universe. Those who can see a surplus of good in 
things as they are, or can hope for their improvement under the 
laws of evolution unaided by social intelligence must be set down 
as hopelessly blinded by the great optimistic illusion of all life. 
While competition is not to be looked upon as a social de- 
sideratum, even in its pure animal form, much less in its aggres- * ., 
sive human form, free individual activity under the full play v 
of all natural motives is of the utmost importance. Among 
these motives those of friendly rivalry and honest emulation are 
legitimate, harmless, and powerful. These competition sup- 
presses ; it tends to choke individual freedom and clog the 
wheels of social progress. How can this true individualism be 
secured and complete freedom of individual action be vouch- 
safed ? Herein lies a social paradox. It is clear from what has 
been said that this will never bring itself about. The tendencies 
are strongly in the opposite direction. Competition is growing 
more and more aggressive, heated, and ephemeral. Combina- 
tion is growing more and more universal, powerful and perma- 
nent. This is the result of the most complete laissez faire 
policy. The paradox therefore is that individual freedom can 
only come through social regulation. The cooperative effects of\ 
vthe rule of mind which annihilate competition can only be over- 
\come by that still higher form of cooperation which shall stay! 
(_the lower form and set free the normal faculties of man. Free 
competition that shall be both innocent and beneficial may be 
secured to a limited extent in this way and in no other way. 
As a single illustration of this, let us suppose a railroad to 
be constructed alongside of an existing canal. Negotiations 



2j6 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

will be at once set on foot on the part of the railroad company 
to purchase the canal, not because it is wanted, but merely to 
remove it from competition. Such negotiations would be sure 
to succeed and leave the railroad master of the field. Competi- 
tion would be removed, rates of transportation increased, and a 
valuable water way would be abandoned. But suppose society 
in its collective capacity, however constituted, seeing the situa- 
tion and the danger, were to step in and itself purchase the 
canal, and to continue in spite of the railroad to conduct it in 
the interest of traffic ; here would be a case in which the law 
of mind would be directed to maintaining instead of destroying 
competition. 

A new and revised political economy will doubtless be largely 
devoted to showing, not so much the glories of competition, 
which society does not enjoy, as how society may conduct itself 
in order to secure whatever benefits competition can offer, and 
also how the competition that cannot be prevented can be shorn 
of its wasteful and aggressive features. Neither should the 
higher attributes of reason and intelligence be discouraged. 
They represent the true elements of civilization and progress. 
But these, too, should be deprived of their fangs. The way to 
counteract the evil effects of mind operating in the individual is 
to infuse a larger share of the same mind element into the 
controlling power of society. Such a powerful weapon as reason 
is unsafe in the hands of one individual when wielded against 
another. It is still more dangerous in the hands of corpora- 
tions, which proverbially have no souls. 1 It is most baneful of 
all in the hands of compound corporations which seek to control 
the wealth of the world. It is only safe when employed by the 
social ego, emanating from the collective brain of society, and 
directed toward securing the common interests of the social 
organism. 

1 " They cannot commit treason, nor be outlawed, nor excommunicate for they 
have no souls." Sir Edward Coke: Reports, Vol. V, Part X, 32 b, London, 1826, 
p. 303 (Case of Button's Hospital). 



fr 



JLJUL^MJL 



Economy of Nuture and Mind. 277 

But the object of this chapter was not to point out remedies 
for social evils. It was, as stated at the outset, to show that 
any system of economics which is to deal with rational man 
must rest upon a psychologic and not upon a biologic basis. 
In full view of all the facts that have been set forth, facts that 
are for the most part obtrusive and have always been available 
to all, it is certainly remarkable that there should be any neces- 
sity for calling attention to this truth ; but the only system of 
social economics that we possess, and the only social philosophy, 
other than the one referred to early in this chapter, that has 
been promulgated, completely ignore it and treat the human 
animal only as an animal. Not the economic writers alone, but 
the great philosophers as well, persistently cling to the law of 
nature and disregard the law of mind. A system of so-called 
"political economy," in which the political aspect, i. e., the 
relation of the state to society, is for the most part ignored, 
has grown up and been reduced to a series of dogmatic canons 
which until recently it was considered next thing to sacrilege 
to question or criticise. But partly with the increase of general 
intelligence, whereby the mind element is more clearly seen in 
industrial and social phenomena, and partly with the increase 
of critical independence on the part of economic students, the 
truth has at last begun to emerge that the greater part of these 
supposed economic axioms are not only open to criticism but 
positively untrue. So thoroughly current had most of them 
become that any fact established in opposition to them might 
appropriately be called a paradox, like some phenomenon that 
seemed to counteract the law of gravitation. On this ground 
was justified the title of a paper which I presented to the 
American Economic Association at Philadelphia in I888, 1 in 
which a considerable number of these economic maxims were 
analyzed and shown to be true only when all their terms were 
reversed. A further examination of such maxims, in which 

1 Some Social and Economic Paradoxes. The American Anthropologist, 
Vol. II, Washington, April, 1889, pp. 119-132. 



278 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

I have been greatly helped by Dr. E. A. Ross, 1 professor of 
political economy in Cornell University and secretary of the 
above-named association, has shown that this process of destruc- 
tive criticism may be carried much further, and can scarcely 
stop until the entire fabric of which they constitute the timbers 
has crumbled and fallen. To substantiate these statements' I 
will introduce here quite a list of the more important cases, 
preserving the form previously adopted and presenting the 
propositions which the industrial history of the world has 
established, although for the most part in direct opposition to 
the hitherto accepted tenets of political economy. They may 
therefore continue to go by the name of Economic Paradoxes. 

1. Subsistence increases instead of diminishing with popu- 
lation (reversal of the Malthusian dictum). 

2. The interest of the individual is rarely the same as that 
of society. 

3. Owing to ignorance of the remote effects of actions men 
do not always do what is for their own interests. 

4. Cheapness is a stronger inducement than quality, and the 
consumer cannot be depended upon to encourage the better 
producer. 

5. Competition raises prices and rates. 

6. Combination often lowers prices and rates. 

7. Free competition is only possible under social regulation. 

8. Private monopoly can only be prevented by public 
monopoly. 

9. The hope of gain is not always the best motive to indus- 
try. 

10. Public service will secure better talent than private 
enterprise for the same outlay. 

1 1 . Market values and social values are not identical. 

12. The prosperity of a community depends as much upon 
the mode of consumption as upon the quantity produced. 

1 It is not intended hereby to commit Dr. Ross to all or any of these proposi- 
tions. 



Economy of Nature and Mind. 279 

13. Private enterprise taxes the people more heavily than 
government does. 

14. The social effects of taxation are more important than 
its fiscal effects. 

15. The producer cannot always shift the burden of taxation 
upon the consumer, e.g., under monopoly and aggressive com- 
petition. 

1 6. Protection may reduce the price of the commodity pro- 
tected, not only in the protecting but even in the importing 
country. 

17. Capital, as embodied in machinery, contributes more 
than labor to the production of wealth. 

1 8. Wages are drawn from products and not from capital, 
and the "wage-fund" is a myth. 

19. Increase of wages is attended with increase of profits. 

20. Prices fall as wages rise. 

21. Diminished hours of labor bring increased production. 

22. Reduction of the time worked enhances the wages 
received. 

23. A man working alone earns the same as when his wife 
and children also work. 

24. Lowering the rate of interest may lead to increased 
savings. 

This enumeration falls far short of exhausting the list, but 
must suffice for the present purpose. One may imagine a 
modern economist trained in the Ricardian, Malthusian, and 
Manchesterian schools which still prevail even in American 
universities, looking with an unbiased mind into such an array 
of facts and convincing himself of their substantial correct- 
ness. His situation would be naturally bewildering, and he 
might at first cast vaguely about for an explanation. If he 
should prosecute this search thoujhtfully and fearlessly, 
intent only upon the truth, he must at length find the 
full and only explanation to be that the whole farrago 
which has so long passed for political economy i-s true only 




280 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

of irrational animals and is altogether inapplicable to rational 
man. 

Darwin modestly confesses that he derived his original 
Conception of natural selection from the reading of Malthus on 
\ Population. 1 But he did not perhaps himself perceive that in 
applying the law of Malthus to the animal world he was 
introducing it into the only field in which it holds true. Yet 
such is the case, and for the same reason that has been already 
given, viz., that the advent with man of the thinking, knowing, 
foreseeing, calculating, designing, inventing, and constructing 
faculty, which is wanting in lower creatures, repealed to this 
extent the biologic law, or law of nature, and enacted in its 
stead the psychologic law, or law of mind. 

1 Autobiography. Life and Letters, Vol. I, p. 68. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

MELIORISM. 

From mere impulse to true sentiment, and from sentiment to reason, are- 
the psychic steps corresponding to the series of benevolent acts which lead 
from promiscuous alms-giving, through the expanding systems of charity, 
to the broadest forms of philanthropy and deep-laid schemes of humalii-"} 
tarianism. But from humanitarianism it is but one more step in the same I 
direction to meliorism, which may be defined as humanitarianism miniis_\ 
all sentiment. Now, meliorism, instead of an ethical, is a dynamic principle. 
It implies the improvement of the social condition through cold calculation, 
through the adoption of indirect means. It is not content merely to alleviate"] 
present suffering, it aims to create conditions under which no suffering canj 
exist. Dynamic Sociology, II, 468. 

I don't know that I ever heard anybody use the word " meliorist " except 
myself. But I begin to think that there is no good invention or discovery 
that has not been made by more than one person. 

The only good reason for referring to the " source " would be, that you 
found it useful for the doctrine of meliorism to cite one unfashionable con- 
fessor of it in the face of the fashionable extremes. GEORGE ELIOT. 



In her general attitude towards life, George Eliot was neither optimist 
nor pessimist She held to the middle term, which she invented for herself, 
of " meliorist." She was cheered by the hope and by the belief in gradual 
improvement of the mass ; for in her view each individual must find the _ . VV* 
better part of happiness in helping another. J. W. CROSS : George Eliot's jr* 
Life, 111,377- 

Our line of reasoning provides us, then, with a practical conception 
which lies midway between the extremes of optimism and pessimism, and 
which, to use a term for which I am indebted to our first living woman- 
writer and thinker, George Eliot, may be appropriately styled meliorism. 
By this I would understand the faith which affirms not merely our power of 
lessening evil this nobody questions but also our ability to increase the 
amount of positive good. It is, indeed, only this latter idea which can 
really stimulate and sustain human endeavor. JAMES SULLY: Pessimism. 
A History and a Criticism, London, 1877, p. 399. 



282 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

Priestley was the first ( unless it was Beccaria ) who taught my lips to 
pronounce this sacred truth: That the greatest happiness of the greatest 
number is the foundation of morals and legislation. JEREMY BENTHAM : 
Works, Vol. X, p. 142. 

In equal degrees of happiness, expected to proceed from the action, the 
virtue is in proportion to the number of persons to whom the happiness 
shall extend ... so that That action is best, which procures the greatest 
happiness for the greatest numbers. FRANCIS HUTCHESON : An Inquiry 
concerning Moral Good and Evil, II, pp. 184, 185. 

La massima felicita divisa nel maggior numero. CESARE BECCARIA: 
Opere, I, p. 10. 

He never would believe that Providence had sent a few men into the 
world, ready booted and spurred to ride, and millions ready saddled and 
bridled to be ridden. MACAULAY (said of Richard Rumbold when about 
to be executed) : History of England, Works, I, 441. 

In Parts I and II, I have attempted to set forth the leading 
psychic factors of civilization. Although when viewed in 
detail they may seem to be somewhat numerous, still, a general 
glance over the field will show that they may all be reduced to 
two distinct classes, the subjective and the objective factors. 
It is also possible to reduce the psychic faculties that con- 
tribute to human progress to two generalized ones and call 
them respectively the conativ.e and intuitive faculties. Using 
the term will in Schopenhauer's sense it may be said that will 
and intellect constitute the progressive mind-elements of man. 
The subjective, conative faculty, or^will. furnishes the propelling 
agent, while the objective, intuitive faculty, or intellect, fur- 
nishes the directing agent. Will is the force, intellect is the 
guide, and it is through the cooperation of these prime factors 
that civilization has advanced. 

As compared to mere biologic progress that of man has 
indeed been rapid and brilliant, and it might be supposed that 
any one who is competent to make this comparison, and a fortiori 
one who has been to the pains of working out the steps by 



Meliorism. 283 

which the transition has taken place, would be not only content 
to contemplate so remarkable a result, but even exultant over 
it. As a matter of fact this is the attitude of most writers on 
the general subject. They see that nature has proved capable 
of doing all this, and they really do not consider it altogether 
sane to talk about any other way. For them it is simply a 
step in the great scheme of evolution. It was to be and it is, 
like the condensation of nebulae into worlds, the development 
of oaks from sea-tang or of mammals from worms. Although 
none of them have shown, as has been attempted here, how 
the intellect of man came into existence under the laws of 
evolution, it is assumed that it did so, and although no one has 
pointed out, as has been done in this work, how the human 
intellect has proceeded to make civilization possible, it is also 
assumed that it has done this according to the normal laws 
of evolution. The acts of man and the laws of society are 
regarded as natural in the same sense that the movements of 
the solar system and the instincts of animals are natural. 

The dissatisfaction that is manifested in certain quarters at 
the state of things that nature has thus brought about is 
looked upon as growing chiefly out of ignorance of these wide 
truths, as the result of narrow views of the world, unscientific 
habits of thought, and foolish exaggeration of human power to 
influence such stupendous movements. It is not denied that 
attempts of this kind are sometimes made, but it is asserted 
that they have all been failures, usually that they have 
made matters worse. If any one examines the cases that 
are adduced in support of this assertion he will find that 
they are confined to a single class, viz., attempts at govern- 
mental reform. It is not perceived that there exists any other 
class. If a laissez faire philosopher were asked whether gov- 
ernment itself, such as it has been and now is, should be consid- 
ered a failure the reply would probably be in the negative, at least 
he would not admit that the particular government under 
which he happens to live was worse than no government at all 



284 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

would be, although it might be regarded as exceedingly bad, and 
although the governments of other countries of which less was 
known might perhaps be thought worse than pure anarchy. 
But, it would probably be said, government is a part of 
civilization, it has developed like the other institutions, it is a 
product of mind, and belongs to human progress in general. 

At this point a few questions may profitably be asked. Is 
not our supposed philosopher's own government better than 
any other ? He would probably admit that it was. Is it not 
better now than it formerly was ? On this point there would 
probably be no hesitation in giving an affirmative answer. 
Then it is not impossible to reform government. The existing 
governments of the world are not the very best they can be or 
can ever be made. Other governments at least stand a chance 
of being brought up to the standard of our philosopher's 
present government, and as that is admitted to be very bad, 
there may, at least if his teachings are heeded, be some hope 
of improving even that. But how does the improvement of an 
existing government differ in this respect from the origination 
of a government where none existed ? At what point in the 
progress of governments did it become preposterous to attempt 
to reform them ? If that point is the one at which our 
philosopher happened to live and write, how is it that it might 
not have fallen at some other time ? It would probably be 
urged that all real reform in government has consisted in 
restricting its action. This carried to its logical results would 
take us back to anarchy, and this we may assume would not be 
advised. Then there must be such a thing as governmental 
reform somewhat short of the complete abolition of govern- 
ment. What such reform would consist in need not now be 
considered ; the fact of its possibility is all that is contended 
for. 

No one will deny that government is a part of evolution, a 
product of human intelligence operating in a normal manner, 
but it is only one of the many human institutions that have 



Meliorism. 285 

been developed in the same way. The attempts to reform or 
in any way change it belong to the same class as the attempts 
to establish it, and are also normal. Intelligence has operated 
on government in the same way that it operates on all other 
things. Why then should government be singled out as the 
only product of intelligence that furnishes illustrations of the 
failure of all attempts to counteract the law of evolution ? Civil- 
ization consists of something else besides government. That 
institution has indeed played an important role, but this has 
been thus far chiefly that of enabling the more direct civilizing 
influences to operate. Its function has been principally that 
of protection, that of affording security to other normal pro- 
cesses. It has done this with a certain degree of efficiency, a 
very variable and imperfect degree, it is allowed, but it has 
done it. Few will probably insist that it has wholly failed, and 
nearly all believe that without it there could have been very 
little or no social progress. Let any one reflect how jealously 
vested rights are guarded by law, how commerce and industry 
are permitted to go on unmolested, how personal liberty is 
guaranteed and crimes against person and property are pun- 
ished, and figure to himself what the state of things would be 
in the total absence of governmental supervision. The quasi 
reign of terror so familiar to those who have ever sought to 
live a little out on the borders of civilization beyond the reach 
of the law will help to complete this latter picture. 1 



1 Mr. Herbert Spencer, who certainly will not be suspected of any partiality to 
government, bears witness to the truth here stated in the following language : 

" Defective as is the administration of law, yet men's properties as well as their 
lives are far safer than they were in early times ; by which there is implied an 
increase of those feelings which embody themselves in equitable laws. If we 
again look at the growth of govermental forms, which have gone on from period 
to period decreasing the unchecked powers of ruling classes, and extending to 
lower and lower grades shares of political power, we see both that the institu- 
tions so established are more altruistic in the sense that they recognize better the 
claims of all, and in the sense that they are advocated and carried on grounds of 
equity and by appeal to men's sense of justice that is, to the most abstract 
and latest developed of the altruistic sentiments." Principles of Ethics, Vol. I, 
p. 294. 



286 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

, If the organization and improvement of government and of all 
other human institutions as well as the operation of the various 
civilizing agencies of mankind are normal products of evolution, 
and have taken place under the operation of natural laws, made 
possible only through the existence of the intellectual faculty 
of man, as all will probably admit, what is there in the world 
that can be called artificial ? Or if any part of all this is 
entitled to be so called why is it not all so entitled ? We are 
told to let things alone and allow nature to take its course. 
But has intelligent man ever done this? Is not civilization 
itself with all that it has accomplished the result of man's not 
letting things alone, and of his not letting nature take its 
course ? If not, then, even the foolish attempts of modern 
social reformers to make impossible changes in the assumed 
unimprovable condition of existing government and society are 
the legitimate effect of natural laws, and those who inveigh 
against them are indulging in bruta fulmina. They, too, are 
of course products of natural law, but the injunction laissez 
faire can be as legitimately served on them as on those on 
</ whom they would have it served. 

~ & The simple truth is that everything that is done at the 

. J behest of the intellectual faculty is per se and of necessity 

y /purely artificial in_the only sense that the word has. The 

' 



betweelT^vqlization and other forms of natural 
progress is that it is a product of art. As was shown in Chap- 
ters XXVII to XXIX, art is the natural product of the? 
/ k inventive faculty which is only a form of intuitive perception 
01 or intuitive reason, and belongs to the main trunk of the intel- 
.F f 

* lect. It is the prime and initial factor in everything distinc- 

, jj tively human, everything truly progressive, the sole cause of 

M '' f /^^ social progress and of civilization itself. The artificial is 

. *^ ,/ infinitely superior to the natural, and civilized man is satisfied 
S* J \ w ith nothing that has not been wrought and finished by the 
* y V 3 skill and handiwork of the artisan or the artist. The constant 

j f tendency is to render everything more and more artificial, 



Meliorism. 287 

which means more and more perfect. Human institutions are 
not exempt from this all-pervading spirit of improvement. 
They, too, are artificial, conceived in the ingenious brain and 
wrought with mental skill born of inventive genius. The pas- 
sion for their improvement is of a piece with the impulse to 
improve the plow or the steam engine. Government is one of 
these artificial products of man's devising, and hls_j[ight___to 
change it is the same ashis right to_create_it. That he has 
greatly improved it there is no doubt ; that he will still further 
perfect it there is every promise. 

The words civilization arid social progress are not strictly 
synonymous. There may be a high state of civilization which 
produces little or no true progress. So loose a term as prog- 
ress requires rigid definition. As the only final end of human 
effort is human happiness, so there can be no true progress 
except toward that end. Progress is therefore increase of 
human happiness, or, negativfc considered, reduction of human 
suffering. Civilization does not essentially consist in securing 
this end. If it does so this is only an incidental effect. That 
upon the whole it does secure it there can be no doubt, but 
there may be and doubtless are instances in which this is not 
the case. Civilization is the product of many men at work 
with their inventive brains, each seeking to compel the forces 
of nature to do something for himself. But the number who 
really contribute to it is exceedingly small compared with the 
aggregate of population, and although what one man wants is 
usually also that which many others want, still this individual- 
ism necessarily results in a very unequal distribution of the 
product. There are those who, admitting this inequality, 
maintain that an equal distribution would be unjust in not 
rewarding intelligence and industry. This should be readily 
conceded. But, as was shown in Chap. XXVIII, it rarely 
happens that the discoverer of a fertile principle secures a just 
share of its returns. This goes not to genius but to the com-f' 
paratively low quality of cunning or business shrewdness.] 



288 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

Almost any other distribution would be more just than the 
actual one. Moreover, it would be unjust were the inventor 
to secure all the returns. He would soon have many thousand 
times as much as he could make any good use of. And so in 
whatever way we look at the subject it presents a problem. 
This problem fully generalized is that of identifying civilization 
with progress, of making society at large the beneficiary of the 
products of art, skill, industry, and labor. It is clear that in 
order to solve this problem, material civilization cannot be 
wholly left to individual preferences. Aside from the unequal 
and inequitable distribution of the products of industry and 
thought there will always be immense waste. The individual 
cx^t w^\ <will never make social progress an end of his action. He will 
always pursue a narrow destructive policy, exhausting prema- 
turely the resources of the earth, caring neither for the good 
others now living nor for posterity, but sweeping into the 
vortex of his own avarice all that he can obtain irrespective of 



__ his real needs. If this is ever to be prevented it must be by 
society putting itself in the place of the individual and seeking 
its interests as the individual seeks his, and caring for the 
welfare and comfort of all its members as the individual cares 
for the health and soundness of all the organs of his body. 

y^ cn j e f d e f ec t;s of the social system as it is now, and always 
nas Deen constituted, are due to social friction as defined in 
Chap. XVII. The problem is therefore reduced to that of 
/ lessening social friction. Social friction is mainly the result 
of the biologic law of natural selection and the struggle for 
existence, which in economic parlance is called competition. 
This is pursued by man under the powerful influence of the 
intuitive reason taking the various forms described in Chapters 
$ XXIII and XXIV. The biological sociologists, seeing the 
\ identity of this with what goes on in the animal world, suppose 

it must be a healthy state of things, and the best state possible. 
They imagine that it results in real social progress. They of 
course forget that, as shown in the last chapter, with the advent 



Meliorism. 289 

of the intellectual faculty an entirely new dispensation was 
inaugurated, that the old and slow biologic method of organic 
[or structural development was superseded by the new and rapid 
anthropic method of transforming the environment and adapting 
it to man, so that this holding over of the principle of animal 
^rapacity becomes an anachronism, loses all its former develop- 
anental value, and stands as the one great obstacle in the path 
{of human progress. Much has been done even by individual l< 
effort to break it down. The social state of mutual dependence 
and cooperation was a heavy blow against it. The division of 
labor in art and industry, by which every one is working for 
every one else, has further hedged it about. The^spread of ^ 
intelligence through the diffusion of education and knowledge 
has served to hold it up to general reprobation. Commerce, ^" 
travel, and the intercourse of people with people and race with ^ 
race have liberalized thought and tended to make it unpopular. 
The growth of sympathy with the growth of intelligence has 7 
proved a powerful antagonist to its advance, and the influence 
of eleemosynary efforts in softening its worst effects cannot be 
ignored. But still it lives, and it is probably beyond the power 
of all these influences wholly to dislodge it. If it is ever 
completely overthrown it will be by a conscious social effort 
wisely directed to the removal of all inducements to the indul- 
gence of selfish greed. Schemes with this end in view have 
been proposed, upon the wisdom or success of which it would 
be needless to enlarge here. It is only essential to deny the 
antecedent impossibility of one day freeing society of this the 
worst enemy of its peace and progress. 

It will be said that this presupposes a change in human 
nature. The answer is that the intuitive reason does not f * 1 
crave the injury of others. If its egoistic ends can be 
attained without this it will not be resorted to. The only 
essential difference between it and the inventive intuition. / ^7 
is that the latter is directed upon non-sentient things and 
loses its moral, or rather immoral quality. The principle 




290 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

by which a physical force is directed into a channel of human 
advantage does not differ in any respect from that by 
which an animal is decoyed into a snare, or a human victim 
/^fleeced by a confidence man. The subject cares only for the 
jr/ end his personal advantage. He ignores the means and its 
consequences to others. The inventor is a deceiver as well as 
the sharper, only what he deceives has no feelings to injure. 
The application of all this is that if all inducement to satisfy 
self at the expense of another can be removed, the principle of 
rapacity will have lost its sting. Its immoral quality will be 
gone. It may then exert itself as powerfully as ever and be 
doing no harm, nay, it may be made an agent of good. There 
is then no antecedent impossibility in the removal of the prin- 
cipal cause of social friction, and it becomes simply a question 
of its practical possibility. Let the light of intelligence, and 
especially of inventive genius, fully in upon it as a great and 
burning question for solution and there can be no predicting 
what the result may be. 

These problems have nothing to do with ethics. They are 
not moral questions, although upon their solution more than 
upon anything else depends the moral progress of the world. 
They are purely social problems and can only be properly con- 
sidered in the dry light of science. The proper name for this 
science is meliorism, the science of the improvement or ame- 
lioration of the human or social state. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

SOCIAL CONSCIOUSNESS. 

Intellectually considered, social differentiation has always been far in 
advance of social integration. As in the solar system, the outlying mem- 
bers the planets have vastly exceeded the central mass the sun in 
the progress which they have made toward the dissipation of their inherent 
motion and the integration of their constituent matter, so, in society, while 
individual men have, at different times and in varying degrees, arrived at 
full consciousness both of themselves and of the universe, the social mass, 
the supreme psychic center of the social organism, still consists of a chaos 
of undifferentiated elements in the crude, homogeneous state. So great is 
this lack of integration in the social consciousness tnat society as a whole is 
still broken up into a large number of more or less remote and independent 
sub-societies, joined together more or less feebly by ties which differ in 
strength, from those of. language and national characteristics in politically 
dependent states, to those of commerce, more or less irregular, between wide- 
separated peoples speaking in different tongues. Dynamic Sociology, 
11,397- 

Society, possessed for the first time of a completely integrated conscious- 
ness, could at last proceed to map out a field of independent operation for 
the systematic realization of its own interests, in the same manner that an 
intelligent and keen-sighted individual pursues his life-purposes. Dynamic 
Sociology, II, 249. 

A time arrives in the progress of social development when societies of 
men become conscious of a corporate existence, and when the improvement 
/of the conditions of this existence becomes for them an object of conscious 
and deliberate effort. At what particular stage in human history this new 
social force comes into play, we have no need here to inquire. What I am 
concerned to point out is that // is a new social force, wholly different in 
character from any which had hitherto helped to shape human destiny 
wholly different also from those influences which have guided the unfolding 
either of the individual animal or of the species. We cannot, by taking 
thought, add a cubit to our stature. The species, in undergoing the 
process of improvement, is wholly unconscious of the influences that are 
determining its career. It is not so with human evolution. Civilized 

S 



292 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

mankind are aware of the changes taking place in their social condition, and 
do consciously and deliberately take measures for its improvement. PROF. 
J. E. CAIRNES : Fortnightly Review, Vol. XXIII, January, 1875, p. 71 

But I pass these by with bare mention to fix attention on only one, viz., 
the modern social doctrine of human progress. Observe, however, I mean 
not mere natural evolution, or unconscious progress according to necessary 
law, but conscious voluntary progress according to a free law, a conscious 
striving after a higher goal, for the individual and for the race. JOSEPH 
LE CONTE : Relation of Biology to Sociology, p. 7. 

If the resemblance between the body physiological and the body politic 
is any indication, not only of what the latter is, and how it has become 
what it is, but of what it ought to be, and what it is tending to become, I 
cannot but think that the real force of the analogy is totally opposed to the 
negative view of State function. Suppose that, in accordance with this 
view, each muscle were to maintain that the nervous system had no right to 
interfere with its contraction, except to prevent it from hindering the con- 
traction of another muscle ; or each gland, that it had a right to secrete, so 
long as its secretion interfered with no other ; suppose every separate cell 
left free to follow its own "interests," and laissez faire, Lord of all, what 
would become of the body physiological ? 

The fact is, that the sovereign power of the body thinks for the physio- 
logical organism, acts for it, and rules the individual components with a rod 
of iron. Even the blood corpuscles can't hold a public meeting without 
being accused of " congestion " and the brain, like other despots whom 
we have known, calls out at once for the use of sharp steel against them. 
. . . Hence, if the analogy of the body politic with the body physiological 
counts for anything, it seems to me to be in favor of a much larger amount 
of governmental interference than exists at present, or than I, for one, at all 
desire to see. PROF. T. H. HUXLEY : Administrative Nihilism. 

The term consciousness has been used in three different 
senses : first as applicable to all feeling whatever ; second, as 
applicable to such feelings only as are referred to the brain 
and become known to the integrated organism ; and third, as 
applicable only to feelings that are sanctioned by the intellect 
and under its control. This last sense is that of Schopenhauer 
and Hartmann, difficult precisely to define, but clearly exem- 
plified by the case of the will as that function is understood by 
them, which they always regard as unconscious. Hartmann's 



Social Consciousness. 293 

Philosophy of the Unconscious is little more than a philosophy 
of the Will, in this sense. But according to the more accurate 
definition of consciousness accepted by physiologists and most 
philosophers it is the essential part of feeling or sentiency 
itself, to the extent that feeling without consciousness would 
be a contradiction of terms. But as animal motion implies 
feeling it is necessary to assume the consciousness of the lower 
ganglionic centers, although the ego is not aware of it, just as 
we ascribe feeling and consciousness to animals that cannot 
tell us of their mental states. In like manner we must extend 
the term consciousness as far down in the scale of being as 
feeling is conceived to exist. Whether this is coextensive 
with life is a disputed question, no feeling being commonly 
ascribed to plants. Still it may coexist with motility in the 
protoplasm of vegetable cells, and may be a property of all 
protoplasm. But as the purpose of feeling is the protection 
of such organisms as are not otherwise protected, it may be 
that it arose along with the development of such organisms. 
Schopenhauer projected the will much farther, and made it 
include chemical affinities and all physical forces. But having 
denied consciousness even to the human will he was not 
obliged to search for the point where it finally disappeared. 

The principal objection that has been offered to the doctrine 
that society is an organism is that it possesses no organ of 
consciousness. But as the whole theory is merely an analogy 
it would not perhaps be more difficult to find the analogue of 
the brain than any of the other analogues that have been so 
carefully searched for. If we look into the constitution of 
society we find that besides the discrete units called individuals 
there are a great many other units of somewhat higher orders, 
each consisting of groups of individuals. These are of very 
different kinds, formed for widely unlike purposes, varying 
indefinitely in size, constitution, and composition. These 
groups of individuals may be divided into two general classes, 
which differ fundamentally from each other. Those belonging 



294 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 



to one of these classes are variously denominated organizations, 
["societies, corporations, companies, associations, sects, churches,, 
etc., etc. All such groups are further seen to agree in one 
particular, however much they may differ in all others. None 
of them embraces all the individuals within any given territorial 
area. Many of them are not restricted to any one area or 
country. They may have members in various parts of the 
country in which they usually meet, and some in other countries, 
or they may be " international." Again, even when they are 
"local," e.g., have no members outside of some particular 
city, they never, any more than the more general ones, include 
all the inhabitants of that city. Many of the members of one 
such society or association are at the same time members of 
one or more of the others, and membership and allegiance thus 
crosses, and may even conflict and interfere. The various 
groups of this general class may be collectively called partial 
or incomplete social aggregates. 

The other of these two general classes of social aggregates 
or units, may, for the sake of distinction be called, universal or 
complete. The difference consists in the fact that these latter 
always include all the inhabitants of some definite territorial 
area. Moreover, if two such organizations are coordinate they 
cannot both occupy any part of that area, and no one individual 
can be a member of any two such associations. But a number 
of subordinate organizations of this class may be under one 
superior one, the territory of which is then coextensive with 
that of all the subordinate ones that fall within it, and all the 
members of the subordinate organizations are also members of 
the superior one. All the members of all partial or incomplete 
organizations are also members of one, and only one, uni- 
versal or complete organization, and in addition to these 
also all individuals who are not members of any partial organi- 
zation. 

All organizations, whether partial or universal, have some 
rules governing their members, those of the former class being 



Social Consciousness. 295 

formed for a great variety of more or less limited and definite 
objects. All organizations of the latter class, however, are 
formed for a single purpose or group of purposes, so that while 
partial associations are extremely heterogeneous in their aims, 
universal associations are absolutely homogeneous in this respect 
throughout the world. This single purpose or group of pur- 
poses which constitutes the sole function of all universal organi- 
zations is the general good of its members. Partial associations 
are also often formed for the good of their members, but it is 
always some special good, usually some one restricted object ; 
they may, however, be formed for purposes quite apart from the 
interests of the members, as in the case of benevolent asso- 
ciations which seek only the good of others who are not 
members. 

Another peculiarity of universal organizations is that the 
rules governing their members are not only much more severe 
and rigid but are capable of being enforced. This is only to a 
limited extent the case with partial organizations. The church 
formerly, and the catholic church still, inflicts penalties, but the 
penalties of other churches at the present day are feeble, and, 
to outsiders, ludicrous. But the complete organization of any 
territorial area has full power over its members, even to the 
taking of their lives where their crimes justify this according to 
their rules of government. 

The reader has not failed to perceive that by universal orj 
complete organizations in the above paragraphs the existing, 
governments of the world have been, described, and I have often 
thought that if we could only get rid altogether of the word 
government, except in the sense of a body of rules, better 
results might be reached in attempting to discuss social 
questions. It is useless to inquire how government originated, 
or by what right it operates. Unless we propose to play the 
part of avowed anarchists and wage a general crusade against 
it, it is as well to accept what actually exists and make the best 
of it. As a matter of fact, in nearly every part of the world 



296 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

society is under some form of organization which embraces all 
its members and exercises plenary powers over them, ostensibly 
at least for their own good. 

Some might object that the only real members of a govern- 
mental organization are the officers of the government. Such 
is the position taken by the school of misarchists who are 
habitually denouncing government as a mere band of politicians 
who at any time happen to hold office. They would probably 
deny that they were themselves members of the government 
of the country in which they live. But they are certainly 
members of the society which constitutes the nation which is 
under that government. Moreover, certainly in representative 
countries, those who vote or may vote must be regarded as 
forming part of the government which their votes create. But 
it would seem a strange place to draw the line, viz., so as to 
make the officers and voters constitute the government and to 
exclude all others. Many who are not voters contribute to the 
support of the government. Why should not these be included ? 
But if the government consist of officers, voters, and tax-payers, 
this will include a very large proportion of the people. More- 
over, it is sometimes very difficult to tell just what constitutes a 
tax-payer. The mere names under which property is assessed 
come very far from revealing this. But if an attempt is made to 
find the real tax-payers, not only is it impossible to stop short 
of including all property owners, but it is equally impossible not to 
include all consumers. For are not half the national revenues 
raised on imports which those who possess no property must 
consume and thus pay taxes ? And the same holds for internal 
revenues, so called. Besides these there are various other ways 
in which every member of society contributes to the support of 
the government under which he lives. Then, there are other 
ways besides voting and holding office in which individuals take 
part in government. Indeed, everyone who exerts any influence 
in political affairs may be said to take part in government, and 
it is well known that many women who cannot themselves vote 



Social Consciousness. 297 

determine the votes of others. This fact has even been urged 
as a reason for not extending suffrage to women, as it is said 
that their influence is stronger without it than it would be 
with it. I do not mean to endorse this statement. I only 
mention it to show how clearly the influence in governmental 
affairs of those who neither vote nor hold office is popularly 
recognized. 

It would seem, therefore, that there is no line that can 
be drawn which will satisfactorily exclude any person from 
membership in a government organization, and a government 
may, therefore, be regarded as consisting of all the individuals 
within its jurisdiction. If any one, however, objects to this use 
of the word government, there is no reason why the word nation 
or state may not be substituted. The name is not essential, 
only the fact that there exist such universally inclusive organiza- 
tions as have been described. 

The question to which all this is preliminary is : Why may 
not this universal or complete organization of any given 
country be taken as the analogue of the organ of conscious- 
ness in the animal, and thus complete the analogy of the social 
to the animal organism ? By consciousness, as here used, is 
meant both the feeling and knowing faculties as attributes of 
the nervous system including the brain. The analogy is then 
made complete by looking upon the brain of developed animals 
as represented in society by the complete independent national 
autonomy, as, e. g., in this country, the federal government ; 
and the hierarchy of subordinate ganglionic centers by the 
corresponding subordinate governments, such as state, county, 
municipal, etc., each of which latter has functions to perform 
which are not sufficiently important to be referred to the 
supreme central authority, the same as in any animal organism. 
From this point of view the independent political autonomies 
or nations of the world constitute each a social ego, while the 
subordinate governments are the several ganglionic centres of 
society that regulate its minor activities. 



298 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

Symmetrical as this scheme appears to be, it would not be 
worth proposing if it did not help in understanding the real 
character of society. Does it do this ? Perhaps as good a 
definition as can be given of consciousness would be : a knowl- 
edge of a feeling. If the individuals composing the social 
organism be compared to the parts of an animal organism (which 
may be restricted to those parts that are supplied with sensory 
nerves) both are alike composed of a great number of sensitive 
points or loci of feeling. In the animal it is the reports from 
these various loci of feeling, both external and internal, that 
determine and regulate its action, insure its nourishment, and 
preserve it from danger. This only applies to individuals. It 
does not extend to the species or any higher groups. It is, 
therefore, only possible to compare any one fully integrated and 
independent political autonomy with an individual organism. 
The feelings of individual men are cognized by the national con- 
sciousness in much the same way that the feelings of the parts 
of the animal organism are cognized by the animal conscious- 
ness. The chief point of resemblance is the purpose for which 
it takes place. In the animal it is always for its good that 
consciousness works, and we have seen that the sole purpose 
which government exists is the good of individuals. There 
are other agencies, such as newspapers, popular rumor, etc., 
that acquaint individuals of the feelings of other individuals, 
but these are purposeless sources of knowledge. The reports 
q^ that are registered in the seat of political consciousness are so 
referred only in order that some action may be taken for the 
good of those experiencing the feelings reported. This is 
closely analogous to the sensory and consequent motor action 
of the nervous system under like circumstances. In the animal 
the feelings are all of the conative class and result in desires 
to satisfy, and the motor discharges tend to contract those 
muscles which are intended to satisfy those desires. In society 
the feelings belong to the same class and the responsive action 
of government is always in the same direction. Some want is 




Social Consciousness. 299 

to be supplied, some right enforced, some evil remedied. Gov- 
ernment, therefore, whether in its legislative, executive, or 
judicial function, in so far as it acts at all, is the servant of the 
will of its members in the same way that the brain is the ser- 
vant of the animal will. In the next two chapters the analogy 
will be pushed a step further, but it will suffice here to remark 
that it is only in its psychological aspects that it is properly 
applicable. Just as the biological theory of society was seen 
to be everywhere unsound from ignoring the interjacent science 
of psychology, so the organism theory of society holds good 
even analogically only in so far as the comparison is confined 
to its psychic aspects. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

THE SOCIAL WILL. 

Whatever be the objects of government, it is clear that it can have no 
other just origin than the will (not the " consent," which is merely negative 
and permissive, but the positive, declared will) of society. Dynamic Soci- 
ology, II, 230. 

It [the executive branch of government] alone knows what the real de- 
mands of the state are. It is constantly subjected to pressure from various 
quarters arising out of the normal operations of trade, manufactures, and 
industry in general. These pulsations it cannot help instantly feeling, and 
it is ever stepping to the verge of its statutory authority to meet these 
demands. Dynamic Sociology, II, 575. 

The individual will, in the only proper and intelligible sense 
of the word, is the conative faculty the faculty through 
which a being strives to satisfy its desires. It is the means by 
which it exists, leading to the supply of its wants and the safety 
of its life. All feelings, internal and external, that reach the 
seat of consciousness react as motor discharges determining the 
appropriate actions. In society the wants of individuals struggle 
to reach the seat of social consciousness, the organized state, 
and produce like reactions, tending to their relief. In highly 
developed governments this analogy is very clear, and a degree 
of responsiveness is attained corresponding somewhat closely to 
that of the individual will. But even in the lower and cruder 
forms there is some degree of responsiveness. Every govern- 
"ment, even the most despotic, is to a certain extent representa- 
tive of the state of society over which it acts, and all government 
is much more nearly the best that can exist under the circum- 
stances than is generally supposed. For example, it is common 
to regard the present government of Russia as greatly out of 
harmony with the people of that empire, but this is probably 
a mistake. It arises from two causes. First, those living 



The Social Will. 301 

under a more liberal government are apt to judge other societies 
by their own. They forget that the very reason why their 
government is so much more liberal is because their society is so 
much more intelligent, and that it is society which determines 
the character of government. The second mistake in this case 
is that the people of Russia are so heterogeneous in this respect. 
There exists there a large intelligent class for whom the govern- 
ment is undoubtedly ill-adapted, and who necessarily chafe 
under it. But this class is numerically small and the govern- 
ment does not well represent it. It represents rather the great 
mass for whom a better government would not be adapted. 
Government must always adapt itself to its worst class and even 
a small class of unintelligent citizens lowers its standard out of 
proportion to the importance of that class. This makes the"" 
(Intelligent class appear to be the dangerous and turbulent onej 
[and leads some to regard intelligence as a curse rather thanj 
(a^blessing. The greatest of all desiderata in society is a 
degree of uniformity of intelligence, or intellectual and moral 

homogeneity. ^^ cX^Ov^^ ,^t^- dL^TtL ' ^.^^^ ^ 
The important fact to be noted in connection with the mani- 
festations of the social will is that in all existing governments 
they are so frequently abortive or unsuccessful. Government 
is perpetually trying to satisfy the demands of individuals and 
a large proportion of its efforts prove to be failures. In the 
main they are successful, otherwise society itself would fail, but 
the successes do not attract attention, while the failures are 
seized upon as proofs of the entire futility of all governmental 
action. Laws are enacted which do not accomplish their pur- 
pose, some of them have effects which are the opposite of those 
which were intended. Numbers of them have to be repealed 
because they are found injurious, etc., etc. This is not the 
place to answer the superficial arguments that are based upon 
such facts. What concerns us here is to inquire into the causes 
of these failures. And first, it is nothing more than what takes 
place in the acts of will on the part of individuals. When 



302 



Social Synthesis of the Factors. 




undirected by intelligence the will is constantly prompting acts 
that fail to secure desired ends, acts that produce effects which 
are the opposite of those intended, and acts which prove 
injurious to those who commit them. 

It is obvious that in both cases the failures are chiefly due to 
what is commonly called ignorance. But it is a special kind 
of ignorance, viz., lack of acquaintance with the principles 
involved. In individuals it is often ignorance of physical laws, 
but most commonly ignorance of human nature. By this is 
meant the motives to human action. Social or governmental 
failures are almost exclusively due to ignorance of , social laws. 
And by this again is meant the principles of human action in 
collectivity. In other words, those who enact unsuccessful or 
obnoxious laws have no knowledge of the nature of social forces. 
As a rule they are influenced by a blind zeal to secure some 
perceived end and it is the nature of the will to proceed in the 
most direct way to the accomplishment of any purpose. The 
social will acts like the individual will, directly toward the 
object of desire. This can be a successful method only in the 
simplest cases. I have somewhat fully discussed this subject 
in Chap. VIII of Dynamic Sociology under the head of the 
" Direct Method of Conation " and need not, therefore, enter 
into it here. It need only be pointed out that for all govern- 
ments thus far this has been the prevailing method, or if the 
indirect method has been applied it has been with such a feeble 
grasp of the complex laws of social phenomena as to amount to 
nearly the same thing. Only the simpler functions of govern- 
ment can be thus successfully carried on, and these have been 
satisfactorily performed. All attempts to exceed these have 
met with varying success, and it has required many failures and 
renewed trials to make the little progress that has actually 
taken place in the higher duties of the state. 

It is, therefore, in the highest degree illogical to argue that 
the state can never extend its powers. It is the organ of social 
consciousness and must ever seek to obey the will of society. 



The Social Will. 303 

Whatever society demands it must and always will endeavor to 
supply. If it fails at first it will continue to try until success 
at last crowns its efforts. If it is ignorant it will educate 
itself, if in no other way by the method of trial and error.j> 
Higher and higher types of statesmanship will follow the 
advancing intelligence of mankind, until one by one the difficult 
social problems will be solved. It is useless to maintain that 
the functions of government are necessarily limited to the few 
that have thus far been undertaken. The only limit is that of 
the good of society, and as long as there is any additional way 
in which that object can be secured through governmental 
action such action will be taken. 

It seems scarcely worth while to notice the exceedingly 
narrow attitude of a certain class of persons who habitually 
speak of government as if it were something foreign to the 
people and hostile to the true interests of society. If there 
have been cases in w r hich the ruling class wholly mistook their 
relations to society and seemed for brief periods and in certain 
countries to justify such a view, events have soon taught them 
better ; and even where a king has imagined that he was the 
state he was at that moment only a servant of the social will, 
refusal to obey which would cost him and his descendants their 
title to power or their lives. But such views are especially 
meaningless in modern times when governments have become 
so extremely sensitive to the social will that a single adverse 
vote will overthrow a cabinet, and where appeals are every year 
taken to the suffrage of the people. The fact is that, so far 
from any modern government daring to inaugurate any scheme 
of oppression, they are all so intensely deferent to the public 
will that every new step is tardily taken and only after it has 
become certain that it will be gladly welcomed and generally 
approved. This country is to-day fully ripe for a series of 
important national reforms which cannot be made because a 
comparatively small number of influential citizens oppose them. 
Conservatism, fear of disapproval, and general timidity before 



304 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

the people, who are recognized as the real government, charac- 
terize the legislation of all modern nations. In order to the 
introduction and adoption of any reform measure it is necessary 
that the public will shall have been positively and emphatically 
made known. But when this is done in an unmistakable 
manner, such measures are often pushed through with much 
too great alacrity. Government is becoming more and more 
the organ of social consciousness, and more and more the 
servant of the social will. Our declaration of independence 
which recites that government derives its just powers from the 
consent " of the govejnd-^ia^~alTeadyUieen outgrown. It is 

>itivelv krteo 



consent but the positively kne^wn will of the 
governed from which government now derives its powers. 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

THE SOCIAL INTELLECT. 

The social forces only need to be investigated as the rest have been, in 
order to discover ways in which their utility can be demonstrated. Here is 
a vast field of true scientific exploitation as yet untracked, and which to the 
legislators of this age is not known to exist. ... If the domain of social 
phenomena is as completely one of law as that of physical phenomena . . . 
then may we logically expect the same measure of success, in proportion as 
these laws are known, which marks the progress of human supremacy in 
the material world. Dynamic Sociology, I, 43. 

II ne faut pas que 1'homme croie qu'il est egal aux betes, ni qu'il croie 
qu'il est dgal aux anges, ni qu'il ignore Tun et 1'autre ; mais qu'il sache 1'un 
et 1'autre. PASCAL : Pensees, II, 85. 

The important truth, set forth in Part I, that feeling was 
developed as a means of preserving life where other means 
were wanting, is scarcely more momentous than the other 
great truth, established in Part II, that the intellect was 
developed as a means of securing ends of being which the 
unguided will could not secure. The several forms which that 
faculty assumed in the performance of this function were 
described and their success and progress traced. It was seen 
that the purely biological ends of being were successfully 
pursued through the egoistic forms of intellection, but that 
the form which led to social progress and civilization was the 
inventive faculty rising into inventive genius and bringing all 
the material and dynamic resources of nature into the service 
of man. In Chap. XXVIII the precise nature of this faculty 
was described, and the secret of its success was pointed out. 

The perpetual failures which in the animal world attended 
direct efforts of will to secure the higher ends of being and 
arrested organic development until the intellectual faculty came 
into existence and gave it such a new and astonishing impetus, 



306 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

also characterized the efforts of the social will to reach forward 
to better things, and they will continue to characterize them 
until the social intellect shall be developed and shall begin to 
organize the forces of human nature and enlist them in the 
service of society. 

Considerable progress has actually been made in this direc- 
tion, but, as in the animal world, it was the egoistic forms that 
were first employed. This took place and still takes place 
chiefly in the relations of tribes with tribes or nations with 
nations. As self-preservation is for the individual the first 
law of nature, so is it with tribes and nations, and accordingly 
it is in obedience to this primary law that the most intense 
efforts of collective man have been put forth to make the dic- 
tates of will successful. Here, therefore, the intellectual aux- 
iliary has been most clearly manifest. The two principal 
directions in which this has made itself felt were considered 
!>, in Chap. XXIII, viz., strategy in war and diplomacy in peace. 
To these may, however, be added retaliatory laws, discrimi- 
nating duties, and a variety of other efforts to checkmate rival 
nations and insure national safety and industrial prosperity. 
\f But the exercise by nations of the inventive faculty even in 
I dealing with other nations has been rare. It is still rarer 
j_ in dealing with their own citizens. It is here that the 
great opportunity is open, and this may now be briefly con- 
sidered. 

/V* In Dynamic Sociology the principle was distinctly formulated 
of under the name of " attractive legislation " (see the several 
\^ passages referred to in the index of that work) and a few illus- 
y trations were given of applications that have actually been 

made of it. Probably the most important examples are those 
that relate to subventions of various kinds, including tariffs, 
bounties, and other subsidies. The introduction of stamps 
in the collection of revenues, whether as postage or excise, 
was a truly ingenious device of the law-maker, and there are 
many others. But there is room for the indefinite extension 



The Social Intellect. 307 

of the principle. There is no doubt that it will one day be 
carried into nearly every department of legislation. There is 
nothing that would go so far to remove the odium that seems 
to attach to the acts of government, however necessary. Not 
only might all revenues probably be collected in a way that 
would be far less irritating than present methods, as well as in 
ways that would be more just, but nearly every other function 
of government might, if statesmen were sufficiently ingenious, 
be performed with such smoothness and ease that society 
would scarcely feel the weight of law upon it. 

The principle itself is absolutely identical with that of 
mechanical invention, the only difference being that it deals 
with social instead of physical forces, with men instead of with 
things. The ingenuity which has been displayed in dealing 
with animals by which wild beasts have become man's most 
useful servants and through which man has gained the com- 
plete mastery over the lower kingdoms of nature, shows that 
the inventive faculty may successfully cope with vital and 
psychic forces. It only requires a somewhat higher type of this"] 
same quality of mind to tame the human animal and make hirnj 
as harmless and as useful to society as domestic animals are toj 
man. First of all the idea must be got rid of that there are 
any essentially evil propensities. Those with which men are 
endowed have been developed for a useful purpose. They must 
be recognized as natural and the effort made to direct them 
into useful channels just as the elements of nature fire, wind, 
water, electricity, etc. are directed by mechanical invention. 
Instead of the brusque command : " Thou shalt not," there 
must be devised such measures that when man acts according 
to nature his act will be at least harmless ; if possible, useful. 
Instead of waiting till the natural result of an action has 
wrought injury to others and then punishing the agent, the 
desire to do that which will injure others might in most cases, 
by the exercise of ingenuity in the modification of his environ- 
ment, be completely removed. The moralists have undertaken 



io8 



Social Synthesis of the Factors. 




the impossible task of removing the so-called evil propensities 
of man. Meliorism teaches that there are no such, but that 
the evil consequences of actions dictated by natural impulses 
may be rendered impossible. Desires there will be, for so is 
man constituted, but these seek only their own satisfaction. 
The injury of others is only incidental, and the problem is 
to get others out of the way. 

It is true that the desires of men can be changed in their 
nature. The same individual will have entirely different desires 
if reared under one environment from what he would have if 
reared under an entirely different one. And this constitutes 
the overwhelming argument for the creation of a proper social 
environment. The desires and consequent conduct of men 
depend upon their ideas, that is, their opinions and beliefs, 
and these depend in turn upon their education, using the term 
in its broad sense. It is, therefore, this education that requires 
first to be attended to, and, as I have shown in Dynamic 
I Sociology, the highest duty of society is to see to it that every 
\ member receives a sound education. This should not be like 
the education which interested individuals furnish, the inculca- 
tion of a particular set of beliefs without any reasons therefor, 
but it should consist exclusively in furnishing the largest 
possible amount of the most important knowledge, letting the 
beliefs take care of themselves. This alone would extract the 
fangs from nearly all human propensities and reduce the 
problem of attractive legislation to its lowest terms. 

But should this great initial step be taken, and all the 
practical knowledge of the world be given to every member of 
society for his guidance, there would still remain, especially 
during the transition period before such a measure could bear 
its full fruit, a wide field for the exercise of the collective 
ingenuity. As happiness is the great object of man the 
problem before the social intellect is nothing less than that of 
the organization of happiness. The existing evils of society are 
so great and so universal that the first steps would necessarily 



The Social Intellect. 309 

be taken rather in the direction of mitigating or removing these 
than in that of increasing or extending the positive enjoyment 
of life. So long as there is pain to be relieved, the attempt to 
heighten pleasure seems a sacrilege. The social intellect 
should, therefore, first and foremost, grapple with the whole 
problem of reducing the social friction. Every wheel in the 
entire social machinery should be carefully scrutinized with the 
practiced eye of the skilled artisan, with a view to discovering 
the true nature of the friction and of removing all that is not 
required by a perfect system. 

With regard to the method by which all this may be made 
practicable a final word may be indulged in. Before any such 
sweeping social regeneration as that which is here hinted at 
can be inaugurated a great change must be wrought in the 
whole theory of legislation. It must be recognized that the 
legislator is essentially an inventor and a scientific discoverer. 
His duty is to be thoroughly versed in the whole theory and 
practice of social physics. He is called upon to devise "ways 
and means " for securing the true interests and improvement of 
the people for whom he is to legislate. This obviously cannot 
be done by existing methods. A public assembly governed by 
parliamentary rules is as inadequate a method as could well be 
conceived of for anything like scientific legislation. Imagine 
all the inventors in the country assembled in a hall acting 
under the gavel of a presiding officer to devise the machines of 
the future and adopt the best by a majority vote ! Or think 
of trying to advance scientific discovery by a general conven- 
tion ! Scientific associations there are, usually for the reading 
of papers setting forth the discoveries made by the members in 
their laboratories, and there would be no objection to this 
class of legislative assemblies. But in the latter case as in the 
former, the real work, the thought, research, observation, 
experimentation, and discovery of laws and principles of nature 
must be done elsewhere, under appropriate conditions, in the 
great field or in the private cabinet. 




3io Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

It may at first glance seem absurd to propose that legislation 
be done in any such way, but a little reflection will show that 
it is not only not absurd, but that there is at this moment 
a strong tendency in all enlightened countries toward its 
adoption. It is a well known fact that at the present time the 
greater part of the real legislation is done by committees. The 
members of legislative committees are carefully chosen with 
reference to their known fitness for the different subjects 
intrusted to them. These committees really deliberate. They 
^investigate the questions before them, hear testimony and 
petitions, and weigh evidence for and against every proposed 
measure. This is truly scientific and leads to the discovery of 
the principles involved. Unless biased by partisan leanings 
they are very likely to reach the truth and report practical and 
useful measures. The body to which these committees belong 
respect their decisions and usually adopt their recommenda- 
tions. The other members usually know very little about the 
merits of the questions, or at least, not having studied them, 
they defer to the superior judgment of those who have. Com- 
mittee work is, therefore, the nearest approach we have to 
the scientific investigation of social questions. It is on the 
increase, and is destined to play an ever increasing role in 
national legislation. 

There is one other important way in which the social intellect 
is being applied to human affairs. The theory is that the 
executive branch of government merely administers national 
affairs. This is a great mistake. A very large part of the real 
legislation of a country is done by the executive branch. The 
various bureaus of government are in position to feel the 
popular pulse more sensitively than the legislature. The 
officers charged with their administration become identified with 
certain industries and are appealed to by the public to adopt 
needed reforms. After stepping to the verge of their legal 
authority in response to such demands, whereby much real 
legislation is done not contemplated by those who framed the 




The Social Intellect. 311 

laws under which these bureaus were established, they finish by 
making recommendations of the rest to the law-making power. 
This latter usually recognizes the wisdom of such recommenda- 
tions and enacts them into laws, thus ever enlarging the 
administrative jurisdiction of government. Such legislation is 
in a true sense scientific. It is based on a knowledge both of the 
needs of the public and of the best means of supplying them. 
It has been subjected to thoughtful consideration and mature 
judgment. It is a method that is being every year more and more 
employed, and its results are usually successful and permanent. 

History furnishes the statesman an additional basis for h 
legislation. It is 'now possible to acquire a knowledge of the 
industrial history of nations, not complete, it is true, because 
so much was lost during the period when history was supposed 
to relate exclusively to the operations of the state and those 
who stood at its head, but sufficiently full to serve as a valuable 
guide to the legislator. No man should consider himself! Q 
qualified to legislate for a people who is not conversant with 




history of modern nations at least, with their various systems^ 
of finance, revenue, taxation, public works, education, land sur-^ 
veying, patent and copyright law, military and naval equipment^ 
general jurisprudence and constitutional, statute, and unwritten 
law. It will, of course, be said that very few legislators are thus 
informed, and this is true, but these few will be the ones who 
will do most to shape the action of the state and will furnish 
examples to all who aspire to play a leading part in the political 
drama. 

Again there is the statistical method. No one will deny // 
that this is rapidly becoming a leading factor in legislation. 
Statistics are simply the facts that underlie the science of 
government. They are to the legislator what the results of 
observation and experiment are to the man of science. They 
are in fact the inductions of political science, and the inductive 
method in that science is of the same value that it is to science 
in general, its only true foundation. There is no great state 
at this day that does not make an effort to collect statistics ; in 



312 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

most of the leading nations of the world this is now done on an 
extensive scale. A census, which a short time ago was merely 
an enumeration of the population of a state, now means an 
exhaustive inquiry into its entire vital, industrial, and com- 
mercial condition. In this and many other ways governments 
furnish to their legislators the most important facts required to 
guide them in the adoption of the measures needful for the 
prosperity of the people. 

There are many other ways in which the tendency toward 
scientific legislation is steadily growing, and, without indulging 
in any undue optimism on the subject, the fact may be con- 
sidered established that no revolution is necessary in the char- 
acter of society in order to bring about the gradual transforma- 
tion required to realize all that has been foreshadowed in this 
chapter. The machinery already exists for the needed reforma- 
tion and all that is necessary is that it be under the control of 
the developed social intellect. The quality of statesmanship is 
increasing. More thought is being devoted to the deeper ques- 
tions of state and of society than ever before, and the signs of 
healthy progress are unmistakable. A modern Solon, para- 
phrasing the oft-quoted saying * of the ancient one, has defined 
a statesman as " a successful politician_who is_dead." He 
doubtless intended to rebuke the tendency of every age to 
vilify public men while they are living and canonize them after 
they are dead. And it would be well if, not only those who 
stand at the helm of the ship of state at any given period, but 
also the achievements of this directive social intellect in guiding 
that ship into smoother waters, were looked at from the stand- 
point of some remote future date and estimated in the light of 
the history which is being made. 



1 Et 5 7J7>6$ TOVTOHTI. TL T\VT^<TL TOV fifav &, OUTOS tlCClVOS T&V <Tl> frjTCtS 6X/3lOS 

KeK\r)<r6ai d|i6s Ian irplv 5' &v TeXevTiJo-??, tirurx&iv, fJL-rjdt KdX&ip KW 6\fiiov dXX' 
ta. SOLON : Herodotus, I, 32, p. 1 5. 



aJs OVK &v aiC)v tK/j.d6ois fipor&v -rrplv SLV 
BdvoL Tts, our' ei xP r )" r ^-! ^ T> ^ T V 

SOPHOCLES : Trachiniez, I. 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

SOCIOCRACY. 

To distinguish this general movement in the direction of regulating social 
phenomena from all other facts in human history, and at the same time to 
avoid all objectionable terms and express the conception in its widest sense, 
it may be appropriately denominated Sociocracy. It is too late now to 
object to this new term on the ground of its hybrid Graeco-Latin etymology, 
since the Greek language is known to be deficient in a proper root for its 
first component, and several kindred terms are already in common use by 
the best authorities. It means something quite distinct from Democracy, 
which points, as this term does not, decisively towards a definite form of 
organization. The term Socialism, too, which might seem akin to it, aside 
from its unpopularity, has by far too great definiteness, and looks too much 
to fundamental change in the existing status of political institutions. All 
of these forms of social organization stand opposed to other existing forms, 
while Sociocracy stands opposed only to the absence of a regulative system, 
and is the symbol of positive social action as against the negativism of the 
dominant lassez faire school of politico-economic doctrinaires. It recog- 
nizes all forms of government as legitimate, and, ignoring form, goes to the 
substance, and denotes that, in whatever manner organized, it is the duty of 
society to act consciously and intelligently, as becomes an enlightened age, 
in the direction of guarding its own interests and working out its own 
destiny. Penn Monthly, Vol. XII, Philadelphia, May, 1881, p. 336. 

But the other branch of social dynamics, that which embraces the influ- 
ence of those active or positive forces heretofore described, necessarily 
connects the study of these forces with the art of applying them, which is a 
distinctly human process, and depends wholly on the action of man himself. 
This art may be very appropriately named Sociocracy, although it is the 
same that has been sometimes called politics, giving to that term a much 
wider range than that now usually assigned to it. We have, therefore, 
besides social statics, negative and positive social dynamics, all of which 
classes are necessary to constitute sociology a true science. Dynamic 
Sociology, I, 60. 

We know that by precisely these means man has artificially modified the 
results of the operation of law in all other sciences, even down to biology, 
and there can be no longer a doubt of the same power over sociological 



314 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

phenomena. This is the department of active social dynamics, or sociocracy, 
which Comte dimly saw, but which his successors have thus far failed to 
recognize. Dynamic Sociology, I, 137. 

If I might be permitted to hint at the precise direction from which Mr. 
Spencer's great labors most strongly appeal to my mind, I should do so by 
intimating the possibility that he himself may fail to appreciate their full 
scope and influence. Emerson, one of whose wise sayings Mr. Spencer 
has embodied in his own remarks, has said of the world's greatest artist 
that 

" He builded better than he knew." 

May it not be that the world's greatest philosopher has also " builded 
better than he knew " ? May it not be that in telling us what society is, 
and how it became such, he has unconsciously pointed out the way in which 
it may be made better? In laying down the principles according to which 
social phenomena take place in nature, may he not have rendered possible, 
in the near future, some practical applications of those principles to higher 
social needs ? I venture to predict that, in thus building the science of 
Sociology, Mr. Spencer has prepared the way for the introduction, on the 
basis of that science, of the corresponding art of Sociocracy. Herbert 
Spencer on the Americans and the Americans on Herbert Spencer, p. 79. 

So also that highest art, the art of government and social organization, 
may reach, unassisted by science, a high degree of perfection ; but if it be 
simply an art it quickly culminates and declines, or else becomes petrified 
and immutable, as we see in the Chinese and Japanese. . . . But if the 
scientific principles of sociology be once understood, if science or self- 
conscious reason guide the social development, there can no longer be any 
limit to its progress. But observe : this indefinite progress is due wholly to 
the introduction of other principles than those derived from purely animal 
nature ; it violates the perfect analogy to material organisms. JOSEPH 
LE CONTE : Popular Science Monthly, February, 1879 (Vol. XIV, p. 429). 

What iustice is this, that a ryche goldesmythe, or an vsurer, or to bee 
shorte anye of them, which either doo nothing at all, or els that whyche 
they doo is such, that it is not very necessary to the common wealth, should 
have a pleasaunte and a welthie lyuinge, either by Idlenes, or by vnneces- 
sarye busines : When in the meane tyme poore labourers, carters, yron- 
smythes, carpenters, and plowmen, by so greate and continual toyle, as 
drawing and bearinge beastes be skant hable to susteine, and againe so 
necessary toyle, that without it no common wealth were hable to continewe 
and endure one yere, should yet get so harde and poore a lyuing, and lyue 
so wretched and miserable a lyfe, that the state and condition of the labour- 



Sociocracy. 3 1 5 

inge beastes maye seme muche better and welthier? . . . And yet besides 
this the riche men not only by priuate fraud, but also by commen lawes do 
euery day pluck and snatche awaye from the poore some parte of their 
daily liuing. So where as it semed before vniuste to recompense with 
vnkindnes their paynes that haue bene benenciall to the publique weale, 
nowe they haue to this their wrong and vniuste dealinge (which is yet a 
muche worse pointe) geuen the name of iustice, yea and that by force of a 
law. Therefore when I consider and way in my mind all these commen 
wealthes, which now a dayes any where do florish, so good helpe me, I can 
perceaue nothing but a certein conspiracy of riche men procuringe theire 
owne commodities vnder the name and title of the commen wealth. They 
inuent and deuise all meanes and craftes, first how to kepe safely, without 
feare of lesing, that they haue vniustly gathered together, and next how to 
hire and abuse the worke and Taboure of the poore for as little money as 
may be. These deuises, when the riche men haue decreed to be kept and 
obserued vnder coloure of the comminaltie, that is to saye, also of the 
pore people, then they be made lawes. THOMAS MORE : Utopia, pp. 
158-160. 

Thus far attention has been chiefly confined to the science 
of society contemplated from the psychologic standpoint. 
But every applied science has its corresponding art. And 
although the social art is none other than this same govern- 
ment of which it has already been necessary to say so much, 
still, our social synthesis would be incomplete without some 
more special inquiry into the essential character of that art as 
a product of the combined consciousness, will, and intellect of 
society. Existing governments, it must be confessed, after all 
that can be said in their favor, realize this only to a very feeble 
extent. The social consciousness is as yet exceedingly faint, 
corresponding more nearly to that of a ccenobium, as in the 
Flagellata and Ciliata, than to any of the developed animal 
forms. The social will is, therefore, merely a mass of conflict- 
ing desires which largely neutralize one another and result in 
little advance movement in one settled direction. The social 
intellect proves a poor guide, not because it is not sufficiently vig- 
orous, but because knowledge of those matters which principally 
concern society is so limited, while that which exists is chiefly 



316 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 




frv 



lodged in the minds of those individuals who are allowed no 
voice in the affairs of state. 

In Dynamic Sociology I have pointed out what I regard as 
the one certain correction possible to apply to this state of 
things, and have entered into a logically arranged demonstra- 
tion of this point. " The universal diffusion of the maximum 
! amount of the most important knowledge" was the formula 
reached for the expression of the result, and it was shown that 
its attainment is not only practicable but easy and simple 
y whenever the social intelligence shall reach the stage at which 
y its importance is distinctly recognized. It is only after the 
mind of society, as embodied in its consciousness, will, and 
intellect, shall, through the application of this formula for a 
sufficiently prolonged period to produce the required result, 
come to stand to the social organism in somewhat the relation 
that the individual mind stands to the individual organism, that 
any fully developed art of government can be expected to 
appear. Such an art will partake of the nature of all other 
arts, as explained in Part II. It will be the product of the 
inventive faculty perfected through the inventive genius, and 
systematized by scientific discovery under the influence of the 
cientific method and spirit. 

Contrasted with this the governments of the past and present 
may be regarded as empirical. Useful, as is all empirical art, 
necessary, and adapted in a manner to their age and country, 
they have served and are serving a purpose in social develop- 
ment and civilization. They have taken on a number of 
different forms, of which the principal ones are called either 
monarchies or democracies. These terms, however, never very 
precise, have now become in most cases wholly misleading. 
The monarchies of Europe, with perhaps two exceptions, are 
now all democracies, if there are any such, and some of those 
that still prefer to be called monarchies are more democratic 
than some that call themselves republics. And in America, 
where none of the governments have the monarchical form, 



Sociocracy. 



317 



some of them are decidedly autocratic and elections are either 
a signal for revolution or else a mere farce. So that the 
names by which governments are known are wholly inadequate 
indexes to their true character. A more exact classification 
would be into autocracies, aristocracies, and democracies. By 
aristocracy would then be meant a ruling class, not necessarily 
superior, but held to be so. Most monarchies belong to this 
class. The aristocracy consists not merely of the royal family 
or dynasty, but of the nobles, clergy, and other privileged 
persons, for all such really belong to the ruling class. Most 
European countries have passed through the first two of these 
stages into the third. Some may be considered as still in the 
second, while most half-civilized, barbarous, or savage nations 
have not emerged from the first. 

It was shown in Part II that the intellect was developed as 
an aid to the will in furthering the personal ends of the 
individual, and in Dynamic Sociology (Chap. VII) it was 
pointed out that among the many modes of acquisition govern- 
ment played a leading part. This is more especially the case 
in the stages of autocracy and aristocracy. It becomes less so 
in that of democracy, where it is confined to the professional 
politician and the "legal fraternity." Most of the attacks! 
upon government that it is now so fashionable to make are 
based upon the vivid manner in which history portrays the 
doings of the ruling class during the stages of autocracy and 
aristocracy, and those who make them seem to forget that in 
all fully enlightened nations this stage has been passed and 
that of democracy has been fairly reached. But the fear and 
dread of government still lingers, and its ghost still perpetually 
rises and will not down. Although modern governments, chiefly 
on account of the known odium in which they are held, scarcely 
dare carry out the emphatically declared will of those who 
create them, and hesitate to take a step forward for fear of 
being forthwith overthrown by a sweeping plebiscite, still they 
are the objects of the most jealous vigilance and violent 






Factors. 
3*3. 

denunciation. Their power for usefulness is thus greatly 
weakened, and social progress and reform are slow. 

It must not, however, be inferred that human, nature has 
been changed by the transition from autocracy and aristocracy to 
o ^democracy. The spirit of self-aggrandizement is undiminished, 
but the methods of accomplishing it have been changed. Just 
as society by the establishment of the institution of govern- 
ment put an end to the internecine strifes that threatened its 
existence, so also by the overthrow of autocracy and aristocracy 
it wrested from the autocrat and the aristocrat his power to 
subsist upon the masses. But the keen egoism of the astute 
individual immediately sought other means to better his condi- 
tion at the expense of those less gifted with this irrepressible 
mental power or less favorably circumstanced for its exercise. 
What could not be secured through statecraft must be gained 
through some other species of craft. And soon was found in 
the very weakness of government the means of accomplishing 
far more than could ever be accomplished by the aid of the 
strongest form of government. What could no longer be 
attained through the universal or complete social organization 
has become easy of attainment through some one or other of 
the many kinds of partial or incomplete social organizations, as 
these terms were defined in Chap. XXXIV. With the rigid 
system which has grown up for the protection of the individual 
in his legal vested rights there is nothing in the way of 
advancing to almost any length in this direction. 

The reaction in the direction of democracy, obeying the 
rhythmic law of social progress, aimed at, and to a large extent 
attained, a fourth stage which may be appropriately called 
physiocracy. Indeed, it may be said to consist of little else than 
that which was demanded by the French school of political 
economists who styled themselves Physiocrats. Neglecting 
some of their special tenets arising out of local conditions in 
France, this movement was not essentially different from that 
which was soon after introduced into England and made such 




-J2-O O^>-^- O^-O 



Sociocracy. 319 



rapid progress that it took complete possession of the public 
mind and has furnished the foundation of the political philos- 
ophy of that country and of the social and economic science 
taught from the high chairs of learning wherever the English 
language is spoken. This physiocracy, as a habit of thought 
rather than a form of government, now goes by the name of 
individualism, and is carried so far by many as to amount to a 
practical anarchism, 1 reducing all government to the action of 
so-called natural laws. 

The general result is that the world, having passed through 
the stages of autocracy and aristocracy into the stage of 
democracy, has, by a natural reaction against personal power, 
so far minimized the governmental influence that the same 
spirit which formerly used government to advance self is now 
ushering in a fifth stage, viz., that of plutocracy, which thrives 
well in connection with a weak democracy or physiocracy, and 
aims to supersede it entirely. Its strongest hold is the wide- 
spread distrust of all government, and it leaves no stone 
unturned to fan the flame of misarchy. Instead of demanding 
more and stronger government it demands less and feebler. 
Shrewdly clamoring for individual liberty, it perpetually holds 
up the outrages committed by governments in their autocratic 
and aristocratic stages, and falsely insists that there is imminent 
danger of their reenactment. Laissez faire and the most 
extreme individualism, bordering on practical anarchy in all 
except the enforcement of existing proprietary rights, are loudly 
advocated, and the public mind is thus blinded to the real 
condition of things. The system of political economy that 
sprang up in France and England at the close of the aristocratic 
stage in those countries is still taught in the higher institutions 
of learning. It is highly favorable to the spread of plutocracy, 
and is pointed to by those who are to profit by that system of 
government as the invincible scientific foundation upon which 
it rests. Many honest political economists are still lured by the 

1 Acracy would be the word necessary to harmonize the terminology. 



,20 



Social Synthesis of the Factors. 



specious claims of this system and continue to uphold it, and 
at least one important treatise on social science, that of Herbert 
* st" Spencer, defends it to the most extreme length. Thus firmly 
^ intrenched, it will require a titanic effort on the part of society 
/ > JW dislodge this baseless prejudice, and rescue itself once more 

y from the rapacious jaws of human egoism under the crafty 

leadership of a developed and instructed rational faculty. 

Under the system as it now exists the wealth of the world, 
however created, and irrespective of the claims of the producer, 
is made to flow toward certain centers of accumulation, to be 
enjoyed by those holding the keys to such situations. The world 
appears to be approaching a stage_ at which those who labor, 
no matter how skilled, how industrious, or how frugal, will 
receive, according to the "iron law" formulated by Ricardo, 
only so much for their services as will enable them " to subsist 
and to perpetuate their race." The rest finds its way into the 
hands of a comparatively few, usually non-producing, indi- 
viduals, whom the usages and laws of all countries permit to 
claim that they own the very sources of all wealth and the 
right to allow or forbid its production. 

These are great and serious evils, compared with which all 
the crimes, recognized as such, that would be committed if no 
government existed, would be as trifles. The underpaid labor, 
the prolonged and groveling drudgery, the wasted strength, 
the misery and squalor, the diseases resulting, and the prema- 
ture deaths that would be prevented by a just distribution of 
the products of labor, would in a single year outweigh all the 
so-called crime of a century, for the prevention of which, it is 
said, government alone exists. This vast theater of woe is 
regarded as wholly outside the jurisdiction of government, 
while the most strenuous efforts are put forth to detect and 
punish the perpetrators of the least of the ordinary recognized 
crimes. This ignoring of great evils while so violently striking 
at small ones is the mark of an effete civilization, and warns us 
of the approaching dotage of the race. 



Sociocracy. 321 

Against the legitimate action of government in the protec- 
tion of society from these worst of its evils, the instinctive 
hostility to government, or misarchy, above described, power- 
fully militates. In the face of it the government hesitates to 
take action, however clear the right or the method. But, as 
already remarked, this groundless over-caution against an im- 
possible occurrence would not, in and of itself, have sufficed 
to prevent government from redressing such palpable wrongs. 
It has been nursed and kept alive for a specific purpose. It 
has formed the chief argument of those whose interests require 
the maintenance of [the existing~sociaTorderVn relation to the 
distribution of wealth. Indeed, it is doubtfuVwhether, without 
the incessant reiteration given to it by this class,[Tt]could have 
persisted to the present time. This inequitable economic 
system has itself been the product of centuries of astute man- 
agement on the part of the shrewdest heads, with a view to 
securing by legal devices that undue share of the world's pro- 
ducts which was formerly the reward of superior physical 
strength. It is clear to this class that their interests require 
a policy of strict non-interference on the part of government 
in what they call the natural laws of political economy, and 
they are quick to see that the old odium that still lingers 
among the people can be made a bulwark of strength for their 
position. They therefore never lose an opportunity to appeal 
to it in the most effective manner. Through the constant use 
of this argumentum ad populum the anti-government sentiment, 
which would naturally have smoldered and died out after its 
cause ceased to exist, is kept perpetually alive. 

The great evils under which society now labors have grown 
up during the progress of intellectual supremacy. They have 
crept in stealthily during the gradual encroachment of organized 
cunning upon the domain of brute force. Over that vanishing 
domain, government retains its power, but it is still powerless 
in the expanding and now all-embracing field of psychic influ- 
ence. No one ever claimed that in the trial of physical 



322 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

strength the booty should fall to the strongest. In all such 
cases the arm of government is stretched out and justice is 
enforced. But in those manifold, and far more unequal strug- 
gles now going on between mind and mind, or rather between 
the individual and an organized system, the product of ages of 
thought, it is customary to say that such matters must be left 
to regulate themselves, and that the fittest must be allowed to 
survive. Yet, to anyone who will candidly consider the matter, 
it must be clear that the first and principal acts of government 
openly and avowedly prevented, through forcible interference, 
the natural results of all trials of physical strength. These 
much-talked-of laws of nature are violated every time the high- 
way robber is arrested and sent to jail. 

Primitive government, when only brute force was employed, 
was strong enough to secure the just and equitable distribution 
of wealth. To-day, when mental force is everything, and 
physical force is nothing, it is powerless to accomplish this. 
This alone proves that government needs to be strengthened 
in its primary quality the protection of society. There is no 
reasoning that applies to one kind of protection that does not 
apply equally to the other. It is utterly illogical to say that 
aggrandizement by physical force should be forbidden while 
aggrandizement by mental force or legal fiction should be per- 
mitted. It is absurd to claim that injustice committed by 
muscle should be regulated, while that committed by brain 
should be unrestrained. 

/' While the modern plutocracy is not a form of government 
I in the -same sense that the other forms mentioned are, it is, 

._ 

] nevertheless, easy to see that its power is as great as any govern- 

1. ^ -^-^ 

\ ment has ever wielded. The test of governmental power is 
usually the manner in which it taxes the people, and the 
strongest indictments ever drawn up against the worst forms of 
tyranny have been those which recited their oppressive methods 
of extorting tribute. But tithes are regarded as oppressive, 
and a fourth part of the yield of any industry would justify a 




Sociocracy. 323 

revolt. Yet to-day there are many commodities for which the 
people pay two and three times as much as would cover the 
cost of production, transportation, and exchange at fair wages 
and fair profits. The monopolies in many lines actually tax the 
consumer from 25 to 75 per cent of the real value of the goods. 
Imagine an excise tax that should approach these figures ! It 
was shown in Chap. XXXIII that under the operation of either 
monopoly or aggressive competition the price of everything 
is' pushed up to the maximum limit that will be paid for the 
commodity in profitable quantities, and this wholly irrespective 
of the cost of production. No government in the world has 
now, or ever had, the power to enforce such an extortion as this/ 
It is a governing power in the interest of favored individuals,; 
which exceeds that of the most powerful monarch or despot thai] 
ever wielded a scepter. 

What then is the remedy? How can society escape this last 
conquest of power by the egoistic intellect ? It has overthrown 
the rule of brute force by the establishment of government. 
It has supplanted autocracy by aristocracy and this by democ- 
racy, and now it finds itself in the coils of plutocracy. Can it 
escape ? Must it go back to autocracy for a power sufficient to 
cope with plutocracy ? No autocrat ever had a tithe of that 
power. Shall it then let itself be crushed ? It need not. 
There is one power and only one that is greater than that which 
now chiefly rules society. That power is society itself. There 
is one form of government that is stronger than autocracy or 
aristocracy or democracy, or even plutocracy, and that is 
sociocracy. 

The individual has reigned long enough. The day has come 
for society to take its affairs into its own hands and shape its 
own destinies. The individual has acted as best he could. 
He has acted in the only way he could. With a consciousness, 
will, and intellect of his own he could do nothing else than 
pursue his natural ends. He should not be denounced nor 
called any names. He should not even be blamed. Nay, he 



324 



Social Synthesis of the Factors. 



should be praised, and even imitated. Society should learn its 
great lesson from him, should follow the path he has so clearly 
laid out that leads to success. It should imagine itself an 
individual, with all the interests of an individual, and becoming 
fully consciotis of these interests it should pursue them with 
the same indomitable zvill with which the individual pursues 
his interests. Not only this, it must be guided, as he is guided, 
by the social intellect, armed with all the knowledge that all 
individuals combined, with so great labor, zeal, and talent 
have placed in its possession, constituting the social intelli- 
gence. 

Sociocracy will differ from all other forms of government that 
have been devised, and yet that difference will not be so radical 
as to require a revolution. Just as absolute monarchy passed 
imperceptibly into limited monarchy, and this, in many states 
without even a change of name has passed into more or less 
pure democracy, so democracy is capable of passing as smoothly 
into sociocracy, and without taking on this unfamiliar name or 
changing that by which it is now known. For, though paradox- 

/.//ical, democracy, which is now the weakest of all forms of 
r' y,government, at least in the control of its own internal elements, 
- Y^" f*v\ * s ca P a ^^ e f becoming the strongest. Indeed, none of the 
fr \F other forms of government would be capable of passing directly 
into a government by society. Democracy is a phase through 
which they must first pass on any route that leads to the 
ultimate social stage which all governments must eventually 
attain if they persist. 

How then, it may be asked, do democracy and sociocracy 
differ ? How does society differ from the people ? If the 
phrase "the people" really meant the people, the difference 
would be less. But that shibboleth of democratic states, where 
it means anything at all that can be described or defined, stands 
simply for the majority of qualified electors, no matter how 
small that majority may be. There is a sense in which the 
action of a majority may be looked upon as the action of 




Sociocracy. 325 

society. At least, there is no denying the right of the majority 

to act for society, for to do this would involve either the denial 

of the right of government to act at all, or the admission of the 

right of a minority to act for society. But a majority acting 

for society is a different thing from society acting for itself, 

even though, as must always be the case, it acts through an J 

agency chosen by its members. All democratic governments i * 

are largely party governments. The electors range themselves ^ 

on one side or the other of some party line, the winning side s. x 

considers itself the state as much as Louis the Fourteenth did. 

The losing party usually then regards the government as some- * \t^ 

thing alien to it and hostile, like an invader, and thinks of 

nothing but to gain strength enough to overthrow it at the next ^^ 

opportunity. While various issues are always brought forward 

and defended or attacked, it is obvious to the looker-on that the 

contestants care nothing for these, and merely use them to gain 

an advantage and win an election. 

From the standpoint of society this is child's play. A very 
slight awakening of the social consciousness will banish it and 
substitute something more business-like. Once get rid of this 
puerile gaming spirit and have attention drawn to the real 
interests of society, and it will be seen that upon nearly all 
important questions all parties and all citizens are agreed, and 
that there is no need of this partisan strain upon the public 
energies. This is clearly shown at every change in the party 
complexion of the government. The victorious party which 
has been denouncing the government merely because it was in 
the hands of its political opponents boasts that it is going to 
revolutionize the country in the interest of good government, 
but the moment it comes into power and feels the weight of 
national responsibility it finds that it has little to do but carry 
out the laws in the same way that its predecessors had been 
doing. 

There is a vast difference between all this outward show of 
partisanship and advocacy of so-called principles, and attention 



/ 



326 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

to the real interests and necessary business of the nation, 
which latter is what the government must do. It is a social 
duty. The pressure which is brought to enforce it is the power 
of the social will. But in the factitious excitement of partisan 
struggles where professional politicians and demagogues on 
the one hand, and the agents of plutocracy on the other, are 
shouting discordantly in the ears of the people, the real inter- 
ests of society are, temporarily at least, lost sight of, clouded 
and obscured, and men lose their grasp on the real issues, 
forget even their own best interests, which, however selfish, 
would be a far safer guide, and the general result usually is 
that these are neglected and nations continue in the hands of 
mere politicians who are easily managed by the shrewd repre- 
sentatives of wealth. 

Sociocracy will change all this. Irrelevant issues will be 
laid aside. The important objects upon which all but an inter- 
ested few are agreed will receive their proper degree of atten- 
tion, and measures will be considered in a non-partisan spirit 
with the sole purpose of securing these objects. Take as an 
illustration the postal telegraph question. No one not a stock- 
holder in an existing telegraph company would prefer to pay 
twenty-five cents for a message if he could send it for ten 
cents. Where is the room for discussing a question of this 
nature ? What society wants is the cheapest possible system. 
It wants to know with certainty whether a national postal tele- 
graph system would secure this universally desired object. It 
is to be expected that the agents of the present telegraph com- 
panies would try to show that it would not succeed. This 
is according to the known laws of psychology as set forth irr this 
work. But why be influenced by the interests of such a small 
number of persons, however worthy, when all the rest of man- 
kind are interested in the opposite solution ? The investiga- 
tion should be a disinterested and strictly scientific one, and 
should actually settle the question in one way or the other. 
If it was found to be a real benefit, the system should be 



Sociocracy. 327 

adopted. There are to-day a great number of these strictly 
social questions before the American people, questions which 
concern every citizen in the country, aud whose solution would 
doubtless profoundly affect the state of civilization attainable 
on this continent. Not only is it impossible to secure this, but 
it is impossible to secure an investigation of them on their -real 
merits. The same is true of other countries, and in general 
the prevailing democracies of the world are incompetent to 
deal with problems of social welfare. 

The more extreme and important case referred to a few^ ,2 ^ 
pages back may make the distinction still more clear. It was 
shown, and is known to all political economists, that the prices 
of most of the staple commodities consumed by mankind have 
no necessary relation to the cost of producing them and placing 
them in the hands of the consumer. It is always the highest 
price that the consumer will pay rather than do without. Let 
us suppose that price to be on an average double what it would 
cost to produce, transport, exchange, and deliver the goods, 
allowing in each of these transactions a fair compensation for 
all services rendered. Is there any member of society who 
would prefer to pay two dollars for what is thus fairly worth 
only one ? Is there any sane ground for arguing such a ques- 
tion ? Certainly not. The individual cannot correct this state 
of things. No democracy can correct it. But a government 
that really represented the interests of society would no 
more tolerate it than an individual would tolerate a con- 
tinual extortion of money on the part of another without an 
equivalent. 

And so it would be throughout. Society would inquire in a 
business way without fear, favor, or bias, into everything that 
concerned its welfare, and if it found obstacles it would remove 
them, and if it found opportunities it would improve them. 
In a word, society would do under the same circumstances just 
what an intelligent individual would do. It would further, in 
all possible ways, its own interests. 



328 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

I anticipate the objection that this is an ideal state of things, 
and that it has never been attained by any people, and to all 
appearances never can be. No fair-minded critic will, however, 
add the customary objection that is raised, not wholly without 
truth, to all socialistic schemes, that they presuppose a change 
in "human nature." Because in the transformation here fore- 
shadowed the permanence of all the mental attributes is postu- 
lated, and I have not only refrained from dwelling upon the 
moral progress of the world, but have not even enumerated 
among the social forces the power of sympathy as a factor in 
civilization. I recognize this factor as one of the derivative 
ones, destined to perform an important part, but I have pre- 
ferred to rest the case upon the primary and original egoistic 
influences, believing that neither meliorism nor sociocracy is 
dependent upon any sentiment, or upon altruistic props for 
its support. At least the proofs will be stronger if none of 
these aids are called in, and if they can be shown to have a 
legitimate influence, this is only so much added to the weight 
of evidence. 

To the other charge the answer is that ideals are necessary, 
and also that no ideal is ever fully realized. If it can be shown 
that society is actually moving toward any ideal the ultimate 
substantial realization of that ideal is as good as proved. The 
proofs of such a movement in society to-day are abundant. In 
many countries the encroachments of egoistic individualism 
have been checked at a number of important points. In this 
country alarm has been taken in good earnest at the march of 
plutocracy under the protection of democracy. Party lines are 
giving way and there are unmistakable indications that a large 
proportion of the people are becoming seriously interested in 
the social progress of the country. For the first time in the 
history of political parties there has been formed a distinctively 
industrial party 1 which possesses all the elements of perma- 

1 For the last ten years or more there have been indications in this country that 
a deep undercurrent of public sentiment was setting in toward the formation of 



Sociocracy. . 329 

nence and may soon be a controlling factor in American 
politics. Though this may not as yet presage a great social 
revolution, still it is precisely the way in which a reform in the 
direction indicated should be expected to originate. But 
whether the present movement prove enduring or ephemeral, 
the seeds of reform have been sown broadcast throughout the 
land, and sooner or later they must spring up, grow, and bear 
their fruit. 

For a long time to come social action must be chiefly 
negative and "be confined to the removal of evils that exist, 
such as have been pointed out in these pages, but a positive 
stage will ultimately be reached in which society will consider 
and adopt measures for its own advancement. The question 
of the respective provinces of social action and individual action 
cannot be entered into here at length, but it is certain. that the 
former will continue to encroach upon the latter so long as 
such encroachment is a public benefit. There is one large 
field in which there is no question on this point, viz., the field 
covered by what, in modern economic parlance, is called 
" natural monopoly." The arguments are too familiar to 
demand restatement here, and the movement is already so well 
under way that there is little need of further argument. As 

such a political party, and while I claim for myself- no special gift of prophecy, I 
was able to foresee this some years before it took any definite form. In the 
Forum for June, 1887, or about four years before the Cincinnati convention 
was called, at the close of an article on False Notions of Government, some parts 
of which I have reproduced in this chapter, occurs the following paragraph which 
may be said to foreshadow events that followed, and which is as true and salu- 
tary now as it was at that date : 

" The true solution of the great social problem of this age is to be found in the 
ultimate establishment of a genuine people's government, with ample power to 
protect society against all forms of injustice, from whatever source, coupled with 
a warm and dutiful regard for the true interests of each and all, the poor as well 
as the rich. If this be what is meant by the oft-repeated phrase 'paternal govern- 
ment,' then were this certainly a consummation devoutly to be wished. But in 
this conception of government there is nothing paternal. It gets rid entirely of 
the paternal, the patriarchal, the personal element, and becomes nothing more nor 
less than the effective expression of the public will, the active agency by which 
society consciously and intelligently governs its own conduct." 



330 Social Synthesis of the Factors. 

to what lies beyond this, however, there is room for much 
discussion and honest difference of opinion. This is because 
there has been so little induction. It is the special character- 
istic of the form of government that I have called sociocracy, 
resting as it does, directly upon the science of sociology, to 
investigate the facts bearing on every subject, not for the 
purpose of depriving any class of citizens of the opportunity to 
benefit themselves, but purely and solely for the purpose of 
.ascertaining what is for the best interests of society at large. 

The socialistic arguments in favor of society taking upon 
itself the entire industrial operations of the world have never 
seemed to me conclusive, chiefly because they have consisted 
so largely of pure theory and a priori deductions. Any one 
who has become imbued by the pursuit of some special branch 
of science with the nature of scientific evidence requires the 
presentation of such evidence before he can accept conclusions 
in any other department. And this should be the attitude of 
all in relation to these broader questions of social phenomena. 
The true economist can scarcely go farther than to say that a 
given question is an open one, and that he will be ready to 
accept the logic of facts when these are brought forward. I 
do not mean that we must not go into the water until we have 
learned to swim. This, however, suggests the true method of 
solving such questions. One learns to swim by a series of 
trials, and society can well afford to try experiments in certain 
directions and note the results. There are, however, other 
methods, such as careful estimates of the costs and accurate 
calculations of the effect based on the uniform laws of social 
phenomena. Trial is the ultimate test of scientific theory 
thus formed, and may, in social as in physical science, either 
establish or overthrow hypotheses. But in social science, no 
less than in other branches of science, the working hypothesis 
must always be the chief instrument of successful research. 

Until the scientific stage is reached, and as a necessary 
introduction to it, social problems may properly be clearly 



Sociocracy. 331 

stated and such general considerations brought forward as have 
a direct bearing upon them. I know of no attempts of this 
nature which I can more warmly recommend than those made 
by John Stuart Mill in his little work on Liberty, 1 and in his 
Chapters on Socialism, of which the latter appeared post- 
humously. They are in marked contrast, by their all-sided 
wisdom, with the intensely one-sided writings of Herbert 
Spencer on substantially the same subject ; and yet the two 
authors are obviously at one on the main points discussed. 
This candid statement of the true claims of the laissez faire 
school is perfectly legitimate. Equally so are like candid 
presentations of the opposite side of the question. The more 
light that can be shed on all sides the better, but in order 
really to elucidate social problems it must be the dry light of 
science, as little influenced by feeling as though it were the 
inhabitants of Jupiter's moons, instead of those of this planet, 
that were under the field of the intellectual telescope. 

1 Even despotism does not produce its worst effects, so long as Individuality 
exists under it ; and whatever crushes individuality is despotism, by whatever 
name it may be called. JOHN STUART MILL : On Liberty, pp. 122-123. 

Neither one person, nor any number of persons, is warranted in saying to 
another human creature of ripe years, that he shall not do with his life for his 
own benefit what he choses to do with it. JOHN STUART MILL : Ibid., p. 147. 

The strongest of all the arguments against the interference of the public with 
purely personal conduct, is that when it does interfere, the odds are that it inter- 
feres wrongly, and in the wrong place. JOHN STUART MILL : Ibid., p. 161. 



LIST OF AUTHORS AND THEIR WORKS 

CITED OR REFERRED TO, WITH CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY NOTES. 1 

[Figures in full-face type refer to pages of this work.] 

It was found undesirable to indicate the sources of the numerous 
quotations more fully than was consistent with clearness. The present list 
aims to furnish any additional information that may be desired. The 
pages referred to in the text are those of the editions mentioned in this 
list. 

ABOUT, EDMOND. 

A B C du Travailleur, Deuxieme Edition, Paris, 1869. 8. 
Cited on pages 222, 233, and 240. 

ADDISON, JOSEPH. 

Cato. The Works of the Right Honorable Joseph Addison, a New 
Edition with Notes by Richard Hurd, D.D., Lord Bishop of 
Worcester ; in six volumes. Bohn's Standard Library, Addi- 
son's Works, Vol. I. London : George Bell & Sons, York 
Street, 1881. Cato, pp. 162-226. 

The celebrated line quoted on page 175 occurs in Cato, Act. 
iv, Scene I, p. 212. 

ALLEN, GRANT. 

The Origin of Fruits. Cornhill Magazine, Vol. XXXVIII, August, 
1878, pp. 174-188. 

Cited on page 248. 

ARGENSON, MARC PIERRE, MARQUIS D'. 
See Daire, Dupont de Nemours. 

BACON, FRANCIS, LORD. 

Novum Organum. The Works of Francis Bacon, Baron of Verulam, 
Viscount of St. Albans, and Lord High Chancellor of England. 
Collected and Edited by James Spedding, M.A., of Trinity 

1 The author desires to acknowledge his indebtedness to Mr. David Hutcheson 
of the Library of Congress for valuable assistance in the preparation of this list, 
as well as throughout the literary investigations undertaken in connection with 
the work. 



334 -/ of Authors and their Works. 

College, Cambridge ; Robert Leslie Ellis, M.A., Late Fellow of 
Trinity College, Cambridge; and Douglas Denon Heath, Barrister- 
at-Law, Late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge. Vol. I, 
New York : Published by Kurd & Houghton, Cambridge : River- 
side Press. 1869. 

Cited on pages 190, 196-197. 

BECCARIA, CESARE. 

Opere. Milano : Dalla Societa tipogr. dei Classic! Italiani, 1821. 

The Maxim cited on page 282 occurs in the treatise entitled : 
Dei Delitti e delle Pene. This is published separately at Paris, 
1829. See p. 2. 

BENTHAM, JEREMY. 

The Works of Jeremy Bentham, published under the superintendence 
of his executor, John Bowring. Edinburgh : William Tait ; 
Simpkin, Marshall & Co., London, 1843. 
Cited on page 282. 

BOURDILLON, FRANCIS W. 

Light. Harper's Cyclopedia of British and American Poetry. Edited 
by Epes Sargent. New York : Harper & Brothers, Franklin 
Square, 1881, p. 938. 
Cited on page 44. 

BROOKS, W. K. 

The condition of Women from a Zoological Point of View. Popular 
Science Monthly, New York, Vol. XV, June, 1879, pp. 145-155 ; 
July, 1875, PP. 347-356. 

Cited on pages 169, 174. 

BUTTIKOFER, J. 

Reisebilder aus Liberia. Resultate geographischer, naturwissenschaft- 
licher und ethnographischer Untersuchungen wahrend der Jahre 
1879-1882 und 1886-1887. Leiden, E. J. Brill 1890. 2 vols. 8. 
Cited on pages 254, 255. 

BYRON, GEORGE GORDON, LORD. 

The Poetical Works of Lord Byron. Wm. W. Swayne, Brooklyn and 
New York. 

The line quoted on page 64, occurs on p. 60 of the above 
edition and on p. 560 of the London edition, 1851. The motto 
placed at the head of the Preface (p. v) is from Childe Harold's 
Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 185. The other mottos from Byron 
on pages 163 and 215 are accompanied by adequate references. 



List of Authors and their Works. 335 

CAIRNES, J. E. 

Mr. Spencer on Social Evolution. Fortnightly Review, Vol. XXIII 
(New Series, Vol. XVII), London, January, 1875, PP- 63-82. 
Cited on pages 291-292. 

CARLYLS, THOMAS. 

Varnhagen von Ense's Memoirs. London and Westminster Review, 
Vol. XXXII, London, 1839 (December, 1838 to April, 1839), 
pp. 60-84. Thomas Carlyle's Collected Works, Library Edition 
in thirty volumes. Vol. X ; Critical and Miscellaneous Essays, 
Vol. V, pp. 287-322. 

The passage cited on page 208 occurs on p. 75 of the former, 
and on p. 309 of the latter of these volumes. 

CARPENTER, WILLIAM B. 

Principles of Mental Physiology, with their Applications to the Training 
and Discipline of the Mind, and the Study of its Morbid Condi- 
tions. New York, D. Appleton & Co., 1875. 
Cited on pages 12, 15, 171. 

CLARK, JOHN B. 

The Philosophy of W T ealth. Economic Principles Newly Formulated. 
Boston, Ginn & Co., 1886. 

Cited on pages 117, 199, 240. 

CLARKE, F. W. 

An Attempt at a Theory of Odor. See a brief abstract in the Bulletin 
of the Philosophical Society of Washington, Vol. VIII, Washing- 
ton, Smithsonian Institution, 1886, p. 27. (Smithsonian Miscel- 
laneous Collections, No. 636. Vol. XXXIII, Article III.) 

This very suggestive paper has never been published in full, 
because, as the author informs me, it is as yet little more than a 
theory, which, however, he hopes ultimately to establish if true. 
My knowledge of Prof. Clarke's views is therefore chiefly derived 
from hearing the paper read, and from subsequent interviews with 
him in relation to it. 
See page 18. 

COKE, SIR EDWARD. 

The Reports of Sir Edward Coke, Knt, in thirteen parts. A New 
Edition, with additional notes and references, and with abstracts 
of the principal points. . . . By John Henry Thomas . . . and 
John Farquhar Fraser. ... In six volumes, London : Joseph 
Butterworth & Son, and J. Cooke, Dublin, 1826. 
Cited on page 276. 



336 List of A^U!lors and their Works. 

COMTE, AUGUSTE. 

Cours de Philosophic Positive, Troisieme Edition augmente'e d'une 
Preface par E. Littre'. Paris, J. B. Bailliere et Fils, 1869. Six 
volumes, 8. 

Cited on pages ii, 1, 37, 190, 194, 240. 

CROSS, J. W. 

George Eliot's Life as related in her Letters and Journals, arranged 
and edited by her Husband, J. W. Cross. In three volumes. 
William Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh and London, 1884. 
Cited on page 281. 

DAIRE, EUGENE. 

Collection d'Economistes. Nouvelle Edition, Paris, 1844. Tome 
premier, CEuvres de Turgot. Tome second, Physiocrates (Quesnay, 
Dupont de Nemours, etc.). Tome troisieme, Turgot. 

This work is one of the principal sources of information relative 
to the early French political economists, whose scattered writings 
are now difficult of access. The aphorisms of the Marquis 
d'Argenson, de Gournay, and others are to be found here with a 
full history of their origin. See Dupont de Nemours, Quesnay, 
Turgot, below. 

DARWIN, CHARLES. 

Journal of Researches into the Natural History and Geology of the 
Countries visited during the Voyage of H.M.S. Beagle round 
the World, under the command of Capt. Fitz Roy, R. N. New 
Edition. New York : D. Appleton & Co., 1871. 

Cited on pages 246-247. 

Autobiography ; being Chapter II of The Life and Letters of Charles 
Darwin, edited by his son Francis Darwin. In two volumes. 
New York : D. Appleton Co., 1888. 8. 
Reference on page 280. 

DIOGENES LAERTIUS. 

Zeno. Diogenis Laertii de Clarorum Philosophorum Vitis, Dogma- 
tibus et Apophthegmatibus Libri decem. Ex Italicis Codicibus 
nunc primum excussis recensuit C. Gabr. Cobet. . . . Graece et 
Latine cum indicibus. Parisiis : Editore Ambrosio Firmin Didot, 
Instituti Franciae Typographo. 1850. Zeno, Vol. XII, pp. 159 

193. 

The passage quoted on page 147 occurs on p. 177 of Vol. XII 
of this edition. The corresponding Latin is as follows : Primam 
animantis appetitionem hanc esse dicunt, se ipsum tuendi atque 
servandi. 



List of Authors and their Works. 337 

DISRAELI, BENJAMIN, EARL OF BEACONSFIELD. 

Coningsby, or the New Generation. New Edition. New York: 
George Routledge & Sons. 
Cited on page 64. 

Du BARTAS. 

Diuine Weekes and Workes. With a Compleate Collection of all 
the other most delight-full Workes. Translated and written by 
the famous Philomusus, losvah Sylvester. London : printed by 
Robert Young with Additions, 1641. The First Weeke : Or 
Birth of the World. Of the Noble, Learned, and Diuine W. 
Salustius, Lord of Bartas, 1605. 

Cited on page 238. This couplet occurs on p. 1 84 of the edi- 
tion of 1605, and -on p. 46 (col. 2) of that of 1641. The original 
French (Guillaume de Salluste, Seigneur du Bartas) I have not 
seen. 

DU BOIS-REYMOND, EMIL. 

Culturgeschichte und Naturwissenschaft. Vortrag gehalten am 24. 
Marz 1877 im Verein fur wissenschaftliche Vorlesungen zu Koln. 
Zweiter unveranderter Abdruck. Leipzig : Verlag von Veit & 
Comp., 1878. 

Cited on page 132. 

DUPONT DE NEMOURS, PIERRE SAMUEL. 

Abre'ge' des Principes de 1'Economie Politique. 1772. 

This work is reproduced in Daire's Collection d'Economistes, 
Vol. II, Physiocrates, Dupont de Nemours. The citation on 
page 241 occurs on p. 374 of* that volume. In Vol. Ill of the 
same work may be found an interesting " Prdambule " to Turgot's 
" Eloge de M. de Gournay," written by Dupont, in which 
the celebrated saying of the Marquis d'Argenson : "Pas trop 
gouverner" and the historic phrase of de Gournay: " Laissez 
faire et laissez passer" occur. 
See further under Quesnay. 

ECKERMANN, JOHANN PETER. 

Gesprache mit Goethe in den letzten Jahren seines Lebens, 1823-1832. 
Zweite Ausgabe. Leipzig, 1837. 3 vols. (parts). 

The passage quoted on page 63 occurs in a conversation held 
Jan. 27, 1824. 

GEORGE ELIOT. 

See Cross, J. W. 

The words reproduced on page 281 will be found in the letter?" 



338 List of Authors and their Works. 

which she wrote to James Sully, dated Jan. 19, 1877. Life, etc., 
Vol. Ill, p. 267. 

GOETHE, JOHANN WOLFGANG VON. 
See Eckermann, Johann Peter. 

GOLDSMITH, OLIVER. 

The Vicar of Wakefield. A Tale supposed to be written by himself. 
Salisbury: Printed by B. Collins, for F. Newbery, in Pater-Noster- 
Row, London, 1 766. 2 vols. 1 2mo. The Works of Oliver Gold- 
smith. Edited by Peter Cunningham. In four volumes. Vol. I. 
Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1854, pp. 292-468. 

This last is the edition cited on page 51. The original edition 
of 1766 is quoted by the editor, the title-page as given above 
occupying page 292. 

GOURNAY, JEAN CLAUDE MARIE VINCENT, SEIGNEUR DE. 
See under Daire, Dupont de Nemours, and Turgot. 

GRAY, ASA. 

Darwiniana: Essays and Reviews pertaining to Darwinism. New 
York: D. Appleton Co., 1877. 
See pages 75, 249. 

HAECKEL, ERNST. 

Die heutige Entwickelungslehre im Verhaltnisse zur Gesammtwissen- 
schaft. Vortrag in der ersten offentlichen Sitzung der fiinfzigsten 
Versammlung Deutscher Naturforscher und Aertzte zu Miinchen 
am 1 8. September 1877. Stuttgart: E. Schweizerbart'sche Ver- 
lagshandlung (E. Koch). 1877. 248. 8. 
Cited on page 44. 

HAMILTON, SIR WILLIAM. 

Lectures on Metaphysics and Logic. Edited by H. L. Mansel and 
John Veitch. Edinburgh and London, 1859. 

Cited on page 20. The motto used on page 215 is placed 
opposite the title-page of Vol. I of this edition. Whether the 
language is entirely his own or was borrowed from earlier authors, 
I have not been able to learn. 

HARTLEY, DAVID. 

Observations on Man, his Frame, his Duty, and his Expectations. 
In two parts: to which are now first added Prayers, and Religious 
Meditations. To the first part are prefixed, a Sketch of the Life 
and Character, and a Portrait, of the Author. The Fifth 



List of Authors and their Works. 339 

Edition. Printed by Richard Cruttwell, St. James's-Street, Bath; 
and sold by Wilkie & Robinson, Pater-Noster-Row, London 
1810. 8. 

Cited on pages 20 and 25. Hartley's first proposition, so pro- 
phetic of the present status of psychology, which occurs on 
p. 7 of Vol. I of this edition, is as follows: 

" The white medullary Substance of the Brain, spinal Marrow, 
and the Nerves proceeding from them, is the immediate Instru- 
ment of Sensation and Motion." 

HARTMANN, EDUARD VON. 

Philosophic des Unbewussten. Zehnte erweiterte Auflage in drei 
Theilen. Eduard von Hartmann's Ausgewahlte Werke. Zweite 
wohlfeile Ausgabe. Bande VII, VIII, IX. Leipzig : Verlag von 
Wilhelm Friedrich, K. R. Hofbuchhandler, 1890. 
See pages 64, 69, 292. 

HERODOTUS. 

Clio. Harper's Greek and Latin Texts. Herodotus. Recensuit 
Josephus Williams Blakesley, S.T.B.Coll. SS.Trin. apud Cantabr. 
quondam Socius. New York : Harper & Brothers, Franklin 
Square, 1861. Vol. I, pp. 1-107. 

Cited on page 312. The passage is part of a speech made by 
Solon to Croesus. In this edition the speech is put in quotation 
marks as Solon's own language. 

HUMBOLDT, ALEXANDER. 

Memoiren Alexander von Humboldt's. 2 Bande, Leipzig : Verlag von 
Ernst Schafer, 1861. 

Cited on pages 63-64. I copied this passage from Mainlander's 
Philosophic der Erlosung, p. 209 (see Mainlander, below), where 
it is simply credited to Humboldt's " Memoiren," without more 
exact reference, and I have had difficulty in proving its authenticity. 
I showed it to a number of German scholars none of whom knew 
of such a work. Most of them doubted its genuineness, and one, 
in very strong language, declared it a forgery. I finally wrote to 
Dr. Eduard von Hartmann, as one likely to be informed in such 
matters. His prompt reply, received on the eve of going to press, 
contained the desired information as set forth above. 

The three paragraphs, as carefully indicated by Hartmann, occur 
on the three pages, 365, 366, and 367, respectively, of Vol. I, and 
he further refers me to pp. 306-309 of Vol. I, and to p. 141 of 
Vol. II, for other passages of similar import. 



340 List of Authors and their Works. 

HUTCHESON, FRANCIS. 

An Inquiry into the Original of our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue. In 
two Treatises. Fifth Edition, corrected. 

The second treatise bears the subtitle : Concerning Moral Good 
and Evil. It is from this that the quotation on page 282 is 
made. 

HUXLEY, THOMAS H. 

Administrative Nihilism . An Address to the Members of the Midland 
Institute, October 9, 1871. In : More Criticisms of Darwin and 
Administrative Nihilism, by T. H. Huxley. New York : D. 
Appleton Co., pp. 57-85. 

The passages quoted on page 292 occur on pp. 71 and 72 of 
this collection of essays. 

The Herring : A Lecture delivered at the National Fisheries Exhibi- 
tion, Norwich, April 21, 1881. Nature, Vol. XXIII, April 28, 
1881, p. 682. 

Cited on page 246. 

JAMES, EDMUND J. 

The Railway Question. The Report of the Committee on Transporta- 
tion of the American Economic Association. With the Paper read 
at the Boston Meeting, May 21-25, 1887, on "The Agitation for 
Federal Regulation of Railways." Publications of the American 
Economic Association, Vol. II, No. 3, July, 1877. 
Cited on pages 265-266. 

KANT, IMMANUEL. 

Kritik der reinen Vernunft. Herausgegeben von G. Hartenstein. 
Leipzig : Leopold Voss. 1868. 
Cited on pages 12, 15, 71. 

KING, CLARENCE. 

Catastrophism and Evolution : An Address delivered at the Sheffield 
Scientific School at Yale College, New Haven, June 26, 1877. 
The American Naturalist, Vol. XI, Boston : H. O. Houghton & 
Co. New York : Hurd & Houghton. The Riverside Press, 
Cambridge, 1877. August, 1877, pp. 449-470. 

Mr. King's use of the phrase " survival of the plastic," mentioned 
on page 259, occurs on p. 469 of this volume of the Naturalist. 

LA ROCHEFOUCAULD, FRANCOIS. 

Reflexions ou sentences et maximes. Edition publiee par L. Aime- 
Martin, Paris, 1822. 

Cited on pages 155 and 163. The maxims are numbered in 
all editions, but the numbers differ slightly in the different ones. 



List of Authors and their Works. 341 

For example, M. Aime-Martin states in a foot-note to page 1 1 
that the third motto which I have placed at the head of Chap. 
XXIV (p. 163) appears as maxim No. 179 of the fourth edition 
(which I have not seen), and that La Rochefoucauld afterwards 
reduced it to the short form that immediately precedes it on page 
163, and placed it at the head of the entire series without number, 
as an epigram, obviously designed to furnish the key-note or 
central idea of his philosophy. See further under Pope, below. 

LE CONTE, JOSEPH. 

Scientific Relation of Sociology to Biology. Popular Science Monthly, 
Vol. XIV, New York, February, 1879, pp. 325-336, 425-434. 
Separately paged reprint, pp. 1-21. 

Cited on pages 240, 314. 

Relation of Biology to Sociology. The Berkeleyan, Vol. XXIII. 
Berkeley, Cal., May, 1887, p. 123. Separately paged reprint, 
pp. 1-8. 

Cited on pages 221, 292. 

LUCRETIUS. 

De Rerum Natura. Harper's Greek and Latin Texts. T. Lucreti 
Cari de Rerum Natura Libri sex. Recognovit Hugo A. I. 
Munro, M. A. New York : Harper & Brothers, Franklin Square, 
1861. 

Cited on page 51. 

LYMAN, D., JUN. 

The Moral Sayings of Publius Syrus, a Roman Slave. From the 
Latin. Cleveland: L. E. Barnard & Co., 1856. 88 pp. 8. 
See page 159 and Publius Syrus, below. 

MACAULAY, THOMAS BABINGTON, LORD. 

History of England. The Works of Lord Macaulay complete. Edited 
by his Sister Lady Trevelyan. In eight volumes. London : Long- 
mans, Green & Co., 1866. 
Cited on page 282. 

MAINLANDER, PHILIP. 

Die Philosophic der Erlosung. Zweite Auflage, Berlin: Verlag von 
Theodor Hofmann, 1879. 
Cited on page 59. 

MALTHUS, T. R. 

* An Essay on the Principle of Population, or a View of its Past and 
Present Effects on Human Happiness, with an Inquiry into our 



34 2 List of Authors and their Works. 

Prospects respecting the Future Removal or Mitigation of the 
Evils which it occasions. Seventh Edition. Reeves & Turner, 
London, 1872. 

Cited on page 242. 

MAUDSLEY, HENRY. 

Sex in Mind and in Education. Fortnightly Review, London, Vol. 
XXI (New Series, Vol. XV), April i, 1874, pp. 466-483. 
Cited on pages 116-117. 

MILL, JOHN STUART. 

On Liberty. Boston : Ticknor & Fields, 1863. 

Cited on page 331. 

The Subjection of Women. Third Edition. London : Longmans & 
Co., 1870. 

Cited on page 174. 

Chapters on Socialism. Fortnightly Review, Vol. XXXI (New Series, 
Vol. XXV), 1879, pp. 217-237; 373-382; 513-530. (See p. 226.) 
Cited on page 155. 

MONTAIGNE, MICHEL EYQUEM DE. 

De la Physionomie. Collection de Moralistes Frangais. Essais de 
Montaigne, publics . . . par Amaury Duval. Tome VI. Paris, 
1822, pp. 1-66. 

Cited on page v. 

MORE, SIR THOMAS. 

Utopia. Translated into English by Ralph Robinson, 1556. Edited 
by Edward Arber. English Reprints. London : Murray & Son, 
No. 14 (bound with Latimer's Sermons, No. 13), 1869. 
Cited on pages 155 and 314-315. 

NEWBERRY, J. S. 

The Cretaceous Flora of North America. Transactions of the New 
York Academy of Sciences, Vol. V, February, 1886, pp. 133-137. 
The Flora of the Amboy Clays. Bulletin of the Torrey Botanical 
Club, Vol. XIII, March, 1886, pp. 33-37. 
See pages 84-85. 

NICHOLS, HERBERT. 

The Origin of Pleasure and Pain. The Philosophical Review, Vol. I. 
Boston: Ginn & Co., July 1892, pp. 403-432; September, 1892, 
pp. 518-534- 

See pages 8, 21, 138-139. 



List of Authors and their Works. 343 

PASCAL, BLAISE. 

Pensees, Fragments et Lettres, publics pour la premiere fois conforme'- 
ment aux manuscrits originaux en grande partie ine'dits, par M. 
Prosper Faugere. Paris : Andrieux, Editeur, Rue Sainte-Anne, 
1 1 , 1 844. Two vols. 8. 

Cited on pages 9, 50, 63, 239, 305. 

PATTEN, SIMON N. 

The Principles of Rational Taxation : Published by the Philadelphia 
Social Science Association. Read at a meeting of the Associa- 
tion, November 21, 1889. 25 pp. 8. 

Cited at length on pages 266 ff. 

The Theory of Dynamic Economics. Publications of the University 
of Pennsylvania. Political Economy and Public Law Series. 
Vol. Ill, No. 2. Philadelphia, 1892. 153 pp. 8. 
See page 120. 

PLINY THE YOUNGER. 

Epistolae. C. Plinii Caecilii Secundi Epistolae et Panegyricus. Lon- 
dini : ex officina Jacobi & Richardi Tonson, & Johannis Watts, 
1741. 

The citation on page 51, from the fifteenth epistle, second 
book, occurs on p. 44 of this edition. 

PLUTARCH. 

Ilepi Ivx?)* (De Fortuna). Plvtarchi Chasronensis Omnivm qvae Ex- 
stant Operum. Tomvs secvndvs, continens Moralia, Gulielmo 
Xylandro interprete. ... Francofvrti : In Officina Danielis ac 
Dauidis Aubriorum & dementis Schleichii, 1620. 

Cited on page 195. The Greek of this edition is printed in 
ligatures which Dr. Wm. B. Owen of Lafayette College kindly 
wrote out for me for the passage quoted. The Latin rendering of 
this passage as placed in the parallel column, is as follows : Atqui 
nemo terram aqua madefaciens discedit vitro & fortunae opera 
lateres inde exituros censens. 

POPE, ALEXANDER. 

Essay on Man. The Works of Alexander Pope. New Edition. 
Including several hundred unpublished letters and other new 
materials. Collected in part by the late Rt. Hon. John Wilson 
Croker, with introductions and notes. By Whitwell Elwin. 
Vol. II. Poetry. London : John Murray, Albemarle Street, 
1871. 

Cited on pages 103 and 132. The lines on page 103 are not 
found in the text as published in this and most editions, but are 



344 List of Authors and their Works. 

given in a foot-note (note 8 to line 216, p. 392) by the editor, who 
says that they occur in the "manuscript following line 216." 
They are preceded by four other lines which help to indicate 
the growth of the thought in the poet's mind. These are as 
follows : 

" To strangle in its birth each rising crime 

Requires but little, just to think in time. 

In ev'ry vice, at first, in some degree 

We see some virtue, or we think we see. 

Our vices thus," etc. 

The editor then adds : " Of the last couplet there is a second 
version " : 

" Thus spite of all the Frenchman's witty lies 

Most vices are but virtues in disguise." 

It deserves to be noticed that Pope's adumbration is of the 
truth that there are no essentially evil propensities, or the relativity 
of evil; while La Rochefoucauld's adumbration is of the truth 
that indirection is the essential quality of intellectual action, or the 
principle of deception. These ideas are therefore not opposites 
or inconsistent with each other, much less " witty lies," but are 
fundamental truths, though so occult and far-reaching that neither 
of the writers quoted saw them in their full relations ; and Pope's 
grasp of his conception was so feeble that in revising his manu- 
scripts he seems to have been unable to bring it back to conscious- 
ness, and therefore expunged it. 

POWELL, J. W. 

Mythologic Philosophy. Address of Vice-President, Section B, Natural 
History, American Association for the Advancement of Science,. 
28th Meeting, held at Saratoga Springs, N. Y., August, 1879* 
Proceedings, Vol. XXVIII, Salem, 1880, pp. 251-278. 
Cited on page 215. 

PUBLIUS SYRUS. 

Collection des Auteurs Latins, avec la Traduction en Frangais ; pub- 
lide sous la Direction de M. Nisard, de 1'Acade'mie Frangaise, 
Inspecteur General de 1'Enseignement Superieur. Vol. IX : 
CEuvres Completes d'Horace, de Juvdnal, de Perse, de Sulpicia, 
de Turnus, de Catulle, de Properce, de Callus et Maximien, de 
Tibulle, de Phedre et de Syrus. Paris : Chez Firmin Didot 
Freres, Fils et Oe, Libraires Imprimeurs de 1'Institut de France, 
rue Jacob, 56. 1869. Publius Syrus, pp. 759-819. 

Cited on page 159. For the English translation see Lyman, 
D., Jun., above. The maxims are not numbered in Nisard's 



List of Authors and their Works. 345 

collection, but Lyman has followed the same order, and his No. 
914 occurs on p. 807 (col. 2), and 939 on p. 808 (col. 2). The 
respective French renderings are as follows: 

914. Qu'un fou se taise, il passera pour un sage. 

939. Le silence tient lieu de sagesse au fou. 

QUESNAY, FRANCOIS. 

Maximes Generales du Gouvernement Economique d'un Royaume 
Agricole. In : Physiocratie, ou Constitution Naturelle du Gou- 
vernement le plus avantageux au Genre Humain. Recueil public' 
par Du Pont, des Societe's Royales d'Agriculture de Soissons & 
d'Orleans, & Correspondant de la Societd d'Emulation de Londres. 
A Leyde, et se trouve a Paris, chez Merlin, rue de la Harpe, 1768. 
Vol. I, pp. 105-122. 

Cited on page 241. 

REID, THOMAS. 

Inquiry into the Human Mind, on the Principles of Common Sense. 
The Works of Thomas Reid, etc., with account of his Life and 
Writings. By Dugald Stewart. With notes, by the American 
Editors. In four volumes. Vol. I, Charlestown, printed and 
published by Samuel Etheridge, Jun'r., 1813, pp. 165-444. " 
See page 173. 

RICARDO, DAVID. 

Principles of Political Economy and Taxation. Edited by E. C. K. 
Conner, London, 1891. 
Cited on page 242. ' 

SCHELLING, FRIEDRICH WILHELM JOSEPH VON. 

Sammtliche Werke. In fourteen volumes, 8. Edited by Karl 
Friedrich August Schelling. Stuttgart und Augsburg : J. G. 
Cotta'scher Verlag, 1856-1861. 
Cited on page 59. 

SCHOPENHAUER, ARTHUR. 

Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung. Dritte verbesserte und betracht- 
lich vermehrte Auflage. Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus. 1859. 
2 vols. 8. 

In this work the relations between the feelings, clearly recog- 
nized as the dynamic agent, and the intellect, somewhat less 
clearly recognized as the directive agent, are forcibly set forth, 
marking, as it seems to me, an epoch in philosophy. I have 
therefore copied freely from it and placed the leading thoughts of 
Schopenhauer prominently before the reader in various mottos 
at the heads of chapters. 



346 List of Authors and their Works. 

Ueber den Willen in der Natur. Eine Erorterung der Bestattigungen, 
welche die Philosophic des Verfassers, seit ihrem Auftreten, 
durch die empirischen Wissenschaften erhalten hat. Vierte 
Auflage, herausgegeben von Julius Frauenstadt. Leipzig : F. 
A. Brockhaus. 1878. 
Cited on page 133. 

SMITH, ADAM. 

An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations. 
Edited by James E. Thorold Rogers. Oxford, at the Clarendon 
Press, 1869. 2 vols. 8. 
Cited on page 241. 
SOLON. 

See Herodotus. 

SOPHOCLES. 

Trachiniae. Sophoclis quae exstant Omnia cum Veterum Grammati- 
corum Scholiis. Superstites Tragcedias VII. Ad optimorum 
exemplarium fidem recensuit, versione et notis illustravit, deper- 
ditarum fragmenta collegit Rich. Franc. Phil. Brunck, regiae 
inscriptionum. et humaniorum literarum Academias Socius. 
Accedunt excerpta ex varietate lectionis, quam continet editio 
Caroli Gottl. Augusti Erfurdt ; Demetrii Triclinii scholia metrica; 
notae ineditae Caroli Burneii ; et Godfr. Henr. Schaeferi annotatio 
Integra. Londini : excudebat A. J. Valpy, A.M. Sumtibus 
Ricardi Priestley, 1824, Tomus I, pp. 305-381. 

Cited on page 312. This passage opens the Trachiniae. The 
Oxford translation is as follows : " There is an ancient saying, 
renowned among men, that you cannot fully judge of the life of 
mortals, whether it has been good or bad to an individual before 
his death." The Tragedies of Sophocles in English Prose. 
Oxford Translation, London, 1863, p. 203. 

SPENCER, HERBERT. 

Social Statics : or, The Conditions Essential to Human Happiness 
specified, and the First of them developed. London : John 
Chapman, 142 Strand. 1851. 

Cited on page 231. 

Social Statics, abridged and revised ; together with : The Man versus 
the State. New York : D. Appleton & Co., 1892. 

See pages 242, 245, 248-249. 

Mr. Martineau on Evolution. Popular Science Monthly, Vol. I, New 
York, July, 1872, pp. 313-323. 
Cited on pages 230-231. 



List of Authors and their Works. 347 

The Study of Sociology, New York : D. Appleton & Co., 1880. 

Cited on pages 116, 175-176. 

The Man versus the State: Containing " The New Toryism," "The 
Coming Slavery," "The Sins of Legislators," and "The Great 
Political Superstition." Reprinted from The Contemporary 
Review, with a Postscript. London : Williams and Norgate, 
1884. 

As bound with Social Statics, abridged and revised (see last 
title but two, above), it seems to be unchanged except by the 
addition of a short note. This series of papers constitutes 
Mr. Spencer's most vigorous attack upon what he regards as the 
socialistic tendencies of the times, and defence of laissez faire or 
individualism. See page 242. 

First Principles of a New System of Philosophy (A System of Syn- 
thetic Philosophy, Vol. I). New York : D. Appleton & Co., 1874. 

Cited on page 91. 

The Principles of Psychology, in two volumes (A System of Synthetic 
Philosophy, Vols. IV, V). New York : D. Appleton & Co., 1873. 

Cited on pages 15-16, 36, 50-51, 71. 

The Data of Ethics : Being Part I of The Principles of Ethics, Vol. I 
(see below). New York : D. Appleton Co., 1879. 

Cited on pages 16, 103, 107. 

Justice : Being Part IV of The Principles of Ethics, or the first part 
of Vol. 1 1 (see below). 

See page 242. 

The Principles of Ethics, in two volumes (A System of Synthetic Phi- 
losophy, Vols. IX, X). New York : D. Appleton Co., Vol. I, 
1892; Vol. II, 1893. 

Cited on pages 162-163, 197, 238, 285. The last two of 
these quotations properly belong to the Data of Ethics, but they 
occur in the lost chapter which did not appear in the edition of 
1879, an d only first saw the light in the complete volume. The 
index will refer the reader to many other places where the views 
of Mr. Spencer are discussed. 

SPINOZA, BENEDICT. 

Ethica. Benedict! de Spinoza Opera quotquot reperta sunt. Recog- 
noverunt J. Van Vloten et J. P. N. Land. Volumen prius. Hagae 
Comitum, apud Martinum NijhofL 1882. Ethica Ordine 
Geometrico demonstrata, pp. 37-278. 

The citations on pages 30, 43, 50, and 147, occur respectively 
on pp. 194, 219, 203, and 204 of the above edition. 



348 List of Authors and their Works. 

STANLEY, HIRAM M. 

On Primitive Consciousness. The Philosophical Review, Vol. I, 
Boston : Ginn & Co., July 1892, pp. 433-442. 

Cited on pages 21, 37, 138. 

On the Introspective Study of Feeling. Science, Vol. XX, New York, 
October 7, 1892, pp. 203-205. 
Cited on page 47. 

SULLY, JAMES. 

Pessimism : A History and a Criticism, London : Henry S. King & 
Co., 1877. 

Cited on page 281. The word "meliorism" probably first 
occurs in print in this passage, though taken directly from George 
Eliot's letter dated Jan. 19, 1877, which Mr. Cross has reproduced 
in "George Eliot's Life," Vol. Ill, p. 267, also cited by me on 
page 281. 

SUMNER, WILLIAM GRAHAM. 

What Social Classes Owe to each other. New York : Harper & 
Brothers, 1883. 

See page 100, note. 
TAYLOR, SIR HENRY. 

Philip Van Artevelde. A Dramatic Romance. In two parts. Works 
of Sir Henry Taylor. London : Henry S. King & Co., 1877. 
Vol. I, Philip Van Artevelde. 

The couplet in the foot-note to page 206 occurs on p. 29 of this 
volume. 

TAYLOR, JEREMY. 

Deus justificatus ; or a Vindication of the Divine Attributes, in the 
Question of Original Sin : against the Presbyterian way of under- 
standing it. In a letter to a Person of Quality. The Whole 
Works of the Right Rev. Jeremy Taylor, D.D., Lord Bishop of 
Down, Connor, and Dromore : With a Life of the Author, and a 
critical examination of his writings, by the Right Rev. Reginald 
Heber, D.D., Late Lord Bishop of Calcutta. London, 1828. In 
fifteen volumes. Vol. IX, pp. 309-364. 
Cited on page 64. 

TURGOT, ANNE ROBERT JACQUES. 

Oeuvres de Mr Turgot, Ministre d'Etat, prece'de'es et accompagne'es 
de Memoires et de Notes sur sa Vie, son Administration et ses 
Ouvrages. Paris : De 1'Imprimerie de Delance. 1808. 

Vol. Ill (pp. 321-375) contains the " Eloge de M. de Gournay." 
On page 370 occurs a passage in which it is intimated that the 



List of Authors and their Works. 349 

phrase laissez faire, used in the economic sense, and universally 
ascribed to de Gournay, usually coupled with the companion phrase 
lai 'ssez passer, may have had an earlier origin in some form, as he 
seems to affiliate these expressions upon what he refers to as " le 
mot de M. Gendre a M. Colbert, laissons-nous faire" In another 
article in the same volume (pp. 309-320) entitled : Sur les Econo- 
mistes, Turgot says (p. 31 1) of de Gournay : " II en conclut qu'il 
ne fallait jamais rangonner ni reglementer le commerce. II en tira 
cet axiome : Laissez faire et laissez passer" 
See page 241. 

VOLTAIRE, FRANCOIS MARIE AROUET DE. 

Le Chapon et la Poularde. Dialogue XIV. Oeuvres completes de 
Voltaire (in seventy volumes). Paris : De rimprimerie de la 
Socie'te Litteraire Typographique, 1784-1789. Tome trente- 
sixieme. Dialogues et Entretiens Philosophiques, pp. 95-101. 

Cited on page 159. The passage occurs on p. 100 of Vol. 
XXXVI of this edition of Voltaire's works, and is applied by the 
"Chapon" to men, " ces monstres nos eternels ennemis," whose 
manifold inconsistencies and hypocricies were under discussion. 

The saying that language was given us to conceal our thoughts 
is commonly ascribed to Talleyrand, but as he was born in 1754 
and this dialogue was written in 1 766 it must antedate any utter- 
ance of the former. Moreover, In The Bee of Oct. 20, 1759, 
Goldsmith wrote : " The true use of speech is not so much to 
express our wants as to conceal them " ; and in one of the ser- 
mons of Robert South (1676) occurs the following sentence : 
" Speech was given to the ordinary sort of men whereby to com- 
municate their mind ; but to wise men whereby to conceal it." 

WARD, LESTER F. 

The Local Distribution of Plants and the Theory of Adaptation. 
Popular Science Monthly, Vol. IX, New York, October, 1876, 
pp. 676-684. 

See page 261. 

The Relation between Insects and Plants, and the Consensus in 
Animal and Vegetable Life. The American Entomologist, Vol. 
Ill (New Series, Vol. I), New York, March, 1880, pp. 63-67; 
April, 1880, pp. 87-91. 

See page 48. 

Politico- Social Functions. Penn Monthly, Vol. XII, Philadelphia, 
May; 1881, pp. 321-336. 
Cited on page 313. 



350 List of Authors and their Works. 

What Mr. Ward was ready to say. Herbert Spencer on the Amer- 
icans and the Americans on Herbert Spencer. Being a Full 
Report of his Interview, and of the Proceedings at the Farewell 
Banquet of November 9, 1882. New York : D. Appleton & Co., 

1883, pp. 76-79- 
Cited on page 314. 

Dynamic Sociology or Applied Social Science, as based upon Statical 
Sociology and the Less Complex Sciences. New York : D. Ap- 
pleton & Co., 1883. 2 vols. 8. 

Cited at the heads of nearly all the Chapters and Parts, and 
constituting the system of philosophy for which the present work 
aims to supply certain deficiencies and to indicate some of the 
applications. 

Prof. Sumner's 'Social Classes.' Man, Vol. IV, New York, March i, 

1884. A review of Prof. Sumner's book in a rather sarcastic 
vein, published anonymously. 

Cited on pages 100-101. 

Broadening the Way to Success. The Forum, Vol. II, New York, 
December, 1886, pp. 340-350. 
See page 261. 

False Notions of Government. The Forum, Vol. Ill, New York, 
June, 1887, pp. 364-372. 
Cited on page 329. 

What Shall the Public Schools Teach ? The Forum, Vol. V, New 
York, July, 1888, pp. 574-583- 
Cited on page 196. 

Our Better Halves. The Forum, Vol. VI, New York, November, 
1888, pp. 266-275. 

The principle of female superiority, or the law that, biologically 
considered, the female is the primary sex and the male only sec- 
ondary or accessory, was first set forth in this paper. It resulted 
from some quasi-humorous, postprandial remarks at the Six o'clock 
Club, at Willard's Hotel, Washington, on April 26, 1888. These 
remarks were briefly reported for the St. Louis Globe, but, inad- 
vertently or otherwise, were credited to Prof. C. V. Riley. I have 
only seen this item as copied from the Globe by the Household 
Companion (Boston, June, 1888). It is but just to Prof. Riley to 
say that he admits the error and waives all claim to the idea, and 
also that he concedes that the principle is sustained by the facts 
of entomology. This principle is considered in Chap. XIV of the 
present work, pages 86, 87. 



List of Authors and their Works. 351 

Genius and Woman's Intuition. The Forum, Vol. IX, New York, 
June, 1890, pp. 401-408. 

The article last mentioned was replied to by Mr. Grant Allen 
in the same magazine for May, 1889, to which the article now 
under consideration was a counter-reply. Some portions of 
it are used with certain alterations in Chap. XXVI, pages 174- 
175. 

Some Social and Economic Paradoxes. The American Anthropolo- 
gist, Vol. II, Washington, April, 1889, pp. 119-132. 
See page 277. 

The Course of Biologic Evolution. Annual Address of the President 
of the Biological Society of Washington, delivered January 25, 

1890. Proceedings, Vol. V, pp. 23-55. Separately paged reprint, 

PP. i-33- 

See pages 44, 48. 

Neo-Darwinism and Neo-Lamarckism. Annual Address of the 
President of the Biological Society of Washington, delivered 
January 24, 1891. Proceedings, Vol. VI, Washington, 1891, 
pp. 11-71. 

See page 221. 

The Transmission of Culture. The Forum, Vol. XI, New York, May, 

1891, pp. 312-319. 

See pages 214-215, 221. 

"Weismann's New Essays. Public Opinion, Vol. XIII, Washington 
and New York, September 10, 1892, p. 559. 

See page 221. 

The Psychologic Basis of Social Economics. Address of the Vice- 
President of Section I, Economic Science and Statistics, of the 
American Association for the Advancement of Science, delivered 
at Rochester, N. Y., August 17, 1892. Proceedings, Vol. XLI, 
Salem, 1892, pp. 301-321. 

See page 254. A somewhat further condensation was published 
under the same title in the Annals of the American Academy of 
Political and Social Science, Vol. Ill, Philadelphia, January, 1893, 
pp. 72-90. Publications of the Academy, No. 77. 

WEISMANN, AUGUST. 

Essays upon Heredity and Kindred Biological Problems. Authorized 
Translation. Vol. I, edited by Edward B. Poulton, Selmar 
Schonland, and Arthur E. Shipley. Oxford, at the Clarendon 
Press, 1889. Vol. II, edited by Edward B. Poulton and Arthur 
E. Shipley, Oxford, 1892. 



35 2 List of Authors and their Works. 

The Germ-Plasm, a Theory of Heredity. Translated by W. Newton 
Parker and Harriet Ronnfeldt, with twenty-four illustrations. 
New York, Charles Scribner's Sons, 1893. 

For the numerous references to Weismann's views see especially 
pages 26, 38, 41, 86, 220, 221, 245. 

WHATELY, RICHARD. 

Elements of Logic, reprinted from the Ninth (Octavo) Edition. Louis- 
ville, Ky.: Morton & Griswold, 1854. 
Cited on page 171. 

YOUMANS, E. L. 

The Centennial Anniversary of the Discovery of Oxygen. Popular 
Science Monthly, Vol. V, New York, August, 1874, pp. 493-497. 
Cited on page 248. 



INDEX. 



About, Edmond, 333. 

, , cited, 222, 233, 240. 

Abstract reasoning, 220. 

Acquired characters, Transmission of, 

22O, 221. 

Acquisition, Modes of, 157, 167, 168, 

317. 

Acquisitiveness, 156, 157. 

Acracy, 319. 

Action, Dynamic, vi. 

, Voluntary, 30. 

, Reflex, 31. 

, Rational, 33. 

, Restraints to, 51. 

, Relations of, to feeling and func- 
tion, 79. 

, Society the beneficiary of, 79. 

in the animal world, 84. 

, Transformations wrought by hu- 
man, 90, 98, 129. 

, Social, 96, 97, 103, 104. 

: , , necessary, 288. 

vs. friction, 103. 

Activity, Advantage of persistent, 142. 
Adaptation, 244. 

supposed to be perfect, 245. 
, Cause of, 245. 

, Means of, not economical, 246. 
Addison, Joseph, 333. 
, , cited, 175. 
Administrative nihilism, 292. 
Adumbrations, Philosophic, vi, 116, 117. 
Advantage, Principle of, 137, 139, 141. 
Advertisements, 273. 
Affections, Enumeration of the, 5, 53. 
Affective phenomena, Complex nature 

of, 53- 

Afferent and efferent nerves, 30. 
Aggregates, Social, 294. 



Aggressive competition. See Compe- 
tition. 

Agricultural stage, 186. 

Alexandrian school, Cosmology of 
the, 9. 

Allen, Grant, 333, 351. 

, , cited, 247, 248. 

Alms-giving, Politico-economic mean- 
ing of, no. 

Altruism, 238. 

Ambition, 53, 159. 

Anachronism, The social, 289. 

Anarchism, 319. 

Anaximander, 9. 

Animal economists, 241, 242. 

economics, 244. 
Animals, Esthetic taste in, 88. 
, Intellect in, 149, 150. 

, Sagacity of, 152. 

, Inventive faculty not developed in, 

184. 

, Domestication or taming of, 186. 
Anschauung, 146, 148. 
Anthropomorphic conceptions, 217, 
Anthropus, 89. 

Antoninus, Moral maxims of, 185. 
Appetence, 53. 
Aquatic animals, why first developed, 

182. 

Aquinas, Thomas, 10. 
Archimedes, 235. 
Architecture, 211. 
Argenson, Marc Pierre, Marquis d', 

2 4i, 333 336, 337- 
Aristocracy, 317. 
Aristotle, 9, 10, 13. 
Art, Essential nature of, vi, 135, 181. 

of speech and silence, 1 59, 349. 
, Origin of, 199. 



354 



Index. 



Art, Esthetic, 208, 211. 

, or fine, vs. practical or useful, 

211. 

-, Dependence of man upon, 258. 
Artificial, Superiority of the, to the 

natural, vi, 286. 
, Definition of the, 286. 
Asceticism, Answer to, 40. 
, Fallacy of, 42. 
Assertion of the will to live, 61. 
Assyria, Cosmology of, 9. 
Attraction, Psychic, 145. 
Attractive legislation, 306. 
Autocracy, 317. 

Bacon, Francis, 10, 122, 333. 
, , cited, 190, 196-197. 
Bain, Alexander, 4, 43. 
Bartas, See Du Bartas. 
Beccaria, Cesare, 334. 
, , cited, 282. 
Bees, Drone, 87. 
, Government of, 238. 
Bentham, Jeremy, 334. 
f t cited, 282. 
Berkeley, Bishop, id, 13. 
Biologic and psychic development not 
parallel, 144. 

law, 168, 250, 251. 

, opposed by the law of mind, 200, 

201, 259, 280. 
Biological utility, 76. 

economics, 135, 168, 244, 250, 251. 

origin of mind, 138, 139. 

dynamics, 168. 

school of economists, 168. 
Biology, Transcendental, 242. 
Birds, Influence of, on plants, 85. 
, Male supremacy in, 87, 88. 
Bisexuality, Origin of, 86. 
Blainville, 37. 

Bonasa umbellus, 149. 
Bourdillon, Francis W., 334. 

, , cited, 44. 

Brahmins, Moral maxims of the, 105. 
Brain of woman, Small size of ex- 
plained, 89. 



Brain as a secondary sexual character, 
89, 150. 

the chief human characteristic, 137. 
, Natural development of, 154. 

as an emotional center, 213. 

primarily an engine of competition, 

263. 

Brain-centers, Directive, 142, 145. 
Brooks, W. K., 334. 

, , cited, 169, 174. 

Brown, Thomas, 10. 

Brute force, 140, 141. 

Buttikofer, J., 334. 

, , cited, 255. 

Business, 157. 

Byron, 334. 

, cited, v, 64, 163, 215. 

Cairnes, J. E., 335. 

, , cited, 291-292. 

Canis latrans, 152. 

Capital and labor, 264. 

Carlyle, Thomas, 335. 

, , cited, 208. 

Carpenter, W. B., 335. 

, , cited, 12, 15, 171. 

Causation the first principle to be per- 
ceived by the intellect, 216. 

Causes, The universal search for, 223. 

, Different kinds of, 231. 

Caution, Characteristic, of woman, 176. 

Central Americans, Untruthfulness of 
the, 164. 

Cephalization, 127, 128, 151. 

Cereals, First appearance of, 49. 

Cerebration always attended with feel- 
ing, 226. 

, Unconscious, 226. 

Cerebro-spinal nervous system, 23, 24. 

Certainty, Biologic principle of neces- 
sity for, or paramount importance 
of, 250. 

Chances, Biologic law of the multipli- 
cation of, 250. 

Character not improved by ethical 
teaching, 106. 

, Tests of, 1 66. 



Index. 



355 



Character brought out by hardship and 

adversity, 166, 167. 
Charity, Sociological significance of, 

109. 

, Scientific objection to, no. 
Chimpanzee, Alleged intelligence of 

the, 254. 

China, Cosmology of, 9. 
Cicero on immortality, 45. 
Ciliata, 315. 

Civilization, Subjective factors of, 7. 
, Essential principle of, 96, 99, 189. 
, Objective factors of, 131. 
, Stages in, 186. 
, Definitions of, 189, 259. 

artificial, 200. 

, Material, progressive, 201. 

, Social synthesis of the factors of, 

237- 

not necessarily synonymous with 

social progress, 287. 
Clark, J. B., 335. 

, , cited, 117, 199, 240. 

Clarke, F. W., on the nature of odors, 

l8 > T 9> 335- 

Clothing and shelter, 187. 
Code of ethics self-executing, 102, 107, 

108. 

Ccenobium, Society compared to a, 315. 
Cognition, 25, 137. 
Coke, Sir Edward, 335. 

, , cited, 276. 

Combination vs. competition, 264. 

Committee legislation, 310. 

Common sense a more reliable guide 

than reason, 43. 
equivalent to intuitive judgment, 

173- 

Communication, Oral and written, 236. 
Competition, Law of, 168, 260. 

vs. cooperation, 239. 

does not secure the survival of the 

fittest, 260. 

, The struggle with, 261. 
, means by which man has combated 

it, 262, 289. 

modified by reason, 263. 



Competition in society ephemeral, 264. 

, aggressive, Professor Patten on, 266 
-271. 

, , Influences conducive to, 272. 

, , a normal result of the mind 
element, 272, 273. 

, , an embodiment of business 
shrewdness, 273. 

, Free, scarcely possible in society, 
274. 

vs. emulation, 275. 

, Social, only possible through regu- 
lation, 275. 

, Remedy for the evils of, 276. 

Comte, Auguste, 60, 107, 121, 122, 123, 
242, 336. 

> > Cited, iv, i, 37, 190, 194, 240. 

Conation, 54. 

, Indirect method of, vi, 138, 190, 

235- 

, Direct method of, 140, 182, 302. 

Conative faculty, 30, 282. 

Concealment, Habitual, of desires and 
emotions, 165, 349. 

Concept, 26. 

Conception, 26, 126, 137. 

Conduct a negative term, 102-104. 

, Supererogatory, 108. 

Confucius, 105. 

Consciousness, Degrees of, 32, 226. 

, Intellect not to be confounded with, 
226. 

, Social, 291, 315. 

, Ambiguity of the word, 292. 

, how used by Schopenhauer and 
Hartmann, 292, 293. 

, Definitions of, 298. 

Conservatism of women, 174, 177, 178, 
194. 

, Religious, opposed to invention, 194. 

Contentment distinguished from happi- 
ness, 72. 

Continuity of the germ-plasm, 38. 

Contrivances of animals, etc., 185. 

Conviction, 33. 

Cooperation, 239, 264. 

Copernicus, 10. 



356 



Index. 



"Cornering" the market, 167, 241, 242, 

265. 

Corporations, 265. 
Cosmas Indicopleustes, 9. 
Cosmic epochs, 133, 135, 136. 
Cosmologies, 9. 
Cosmology and psychology the two 

principal fields of philosophy, 9. 
, Theological and rational, 217. 
Courage as a male trait, 180. 
Creation, Artistic, 126. 
, , an outgrowth of invention, 212. 
Creative faculty, 28, 126, 137, 210. 

, Origin and genesis of the, 210. 

genius, 208. 

Credulity a product of optimism, 166. 

Croesus, 339. 

Cross fertilization, 81. 

Cross, J. W., 336, 337. 

, , cited, 281. 

Cunning, 29, 128, 148. 
, Synonyms of, 153. 

Daire, Eugene, 336, 337, 338. 

Darwin, Charles, 121, 134, 150, 223, 

244, 246, 280, 336. 
, , cited, 246-247. 
, Francis, 336. 
"Deals," Railroad, 168, 265. 
Death not necessary, 38. 
Deception, Principle of, 155, 159, 162, 

344- 

, , etymological proofs, 1 63. 

the key to success, 163, 164. 

, The vocabulary of, 163, 167. 

. in animals, 164. 

. the essential method of the intel- 
lect, 164, 165. 

a means of self -protection, 165. 
, Social life favorable to, 166, 167. 
, Forms of, 167. 

not involved in intuitive judgment, 

179. 

De Foe, 258. 

Degeneracy, End accomplished by, 76. 
Democracy, 316, 317. 
Democritus, 9. 



Demogogy, 160. 
Denial of the will to live, 213. 
Derivative faculties, 137, 209, 215. 
Descartes, 10, 13, 67, 218. 
Desire, Philosophy of, 50. 

presupposes memory, 50, 52. 

, The word, used in a generic sense, 

52. 
, The various manifestations of, 53. 

a form of pain, 54. 

always seeks satisfaction, 55. 

the mainspring of all action, 55. 

a true natural force, 55, 94, 233. 

distinguished from other forms of 

pain, 56. 

compared to itching, 57. 

, Consequences of satisfying, 58. 

blind, 61, 233. 

, Psychologic explanation of, 127, 128. 
, Obstacles to the satisfaction of, 141. 
, Habitual effort to conceal, 165. 
Desires, Man a theater of, 52. 
, their satisfaction is their termina- 
tion, 55, 65. 

, how they may be changed, 55, 65. 
, Expansion of, in the social state, 1 58. 
De Tocqueville, 230. 
Development, Organic, 82. 
, Extra-normal, 82, 83. 
, Psychic and biologic, not parallel, 

144. 

, Genetic, 245, 253. 
Devices, Artificial, 185. 
Ding an sich, 61. 
Diogenes Laertius, 336. 

, cited, 147, 336. 
Dionaea muscipula, 185. 
Diplomacy, 160, 306. 
Direct method of conation, 140, 182, 302. 
Directive agent, vi, 231, 345. 

element in society, vi, 5, 231. 

faculty, Development of the, 141, 183. 

brain-centers, 142, 145. 
Discoveries, The great progressive, 188. 
Discovery, Scientific, distinguished from 

invention, 202, 
, , always useful, 203. 



Index. 



357 



Diseases, Differences in, as affecting 

happiness, 72. 
Disraeli, Benjamin, 337. 
, , cited, 64. 
Domestication of animals, 186- 
Doris, 246, 247. 
Dred Scott decision, 173. 
Drone bees, 87. 
Du Bartas, 337. 

, cited, 238. 

Du Bois-Reymond, Emil, 337. 

, , cited, 132. 

Du Chaillu, 254. 
Duns Scotus, 10. 
Dupont de Nemours, 336, 337, 338. 

, cited, 241. 

Dynamic Sociology (the book), iv, vi, 

118. 

sociology (the principle) defined, 2. 

, Adumbrations of, n 6, 117, 122. 

, where needing to be strength- 
ened, 119. 

, Psychologic basis of, 120, 130. 

, Popular recognition of, 122. 

distinct from dynamic biology, 

T 35- 

action, vi. 

element in society, vi, 5, 230, 231, 233. 

agents, 91, 230, 233, 345. 

, Use of the term, in the sciences, 120. 

biology, 135. 
Dynamics, Social, I. 

of mind, 91, 230, 233. 

East African slaves, why untruthful, 

165. 

Eckerman, Johann Peter, 63, 337, 338. 
Economic paradoxes, 277-279. 
Economics, Biological, 135, 168, 244, 

250, 251. 

of nature, 239, 250, 251, 256. 
, Animal, 244. 

, Psychological, 244, 277. 

, Human, 256. 

, , Superiority of, 257. 

, social, Psychologic basis of, 277. 

Economists, The animal, 241, 242. 



Economy of nature and mind, 239. 

, Natural, 245. 

, Man alone employs a true, 256. 

Education, Argument for, 308. 

, Definition of, 316. 

Efferent and afferent nerves, 30. 

Ego, Nature of the, 32. 

Egotism of ethical teachers, 107. 

Egypt, Cosmology of, 9. 

Elasticity, Utilization of, 188. 

Electricity, The psychic force compared 

to, 95. 

, Possibilities of, 188. 
Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 122. 
Emotional sense, 22, 126, 127. 
Emotions, 22. 

, Habitual concealment of, 165. 
Emulation vs. competition, 275. 
Ends, Substitution of means for, 145, 

234, 235. 

Energy, social, Liberation of, 114. 
Ennui, 53. 
Environment transforms the animal, 

but is transformed by man, 257. 
, The organic, 259. 
Epistemology, 13. 
Epochs, Cosmic, 133, 135, 136. 
Esthetic faculty, Origin of the, 48, 88, 

156. 

in animals, 88. 

as a part of the will, 213. 

art, 208, 211. 

pleasure, 213. 

Ethical and sociological standpoints 

opposite, in. 

Ethics, Code of, self-executing, 102, 107, 
1 08. 

defined by Spencer, 103. 

a department of sociology, 104. 
, Restricted field of, 104. 

, Exaggeration of, 104, 105, 107, in. 
, No scientific basis of, 105. 

should only be taught historically, 

1 06. 

, Superficial treatment of, in. 
- deals with a transitional stage, in, 
112. 



358 



Index. 



Ethics self-destructive, 114. 

of Herbert Spencer, 182. 
Evil, Origin of, 37, 40, 41. 

, Relativity of, 114, 307, 344. 
Evolution a means, not an end, 75. 
, Subjective and objective, 83, 
, Object of, 129. 
, True cause of organic, 140, 141. 

as a product of mind, 230, 231. 
, The optimistic view of, 283. 
Evolutionary teleology, 75. 
Exaggeration of irregularities, Law of, 

252. 

Executive branch, Legislation by the, 
310. 

Experience as a form of knowledge, 
228. 

Exploration, Stage of, in the develop- 
ment of the intellect, 143. 

Extinct and waning types, 252, 253. 

Extra-normal development, 82, 83. 

Factors of civilization, Subjective, 7. 

, Objective, 131. 

, Social synthesis of the, 237. 

Faculties, Derivative, 137, 209, 215. 
, Non-advantageous, 215. 
Feeling vs. function, vi, 75, 76, 78. 

and action, 75. 

, Sense of, 18, 19. 

subjectively subjective, 20. 

a pain-sense, 21. 

a means of warning, 39. 

regarded as unworthy, 47. 

a condition to the existence of 

plastic organisms, 75, 305. 
, Dignity and antiquity of, 93. 
, Importance of, 93, 305. 
, Thought necessarily attended with, 

226. 
Feelings not regarded as a part of 

mind, 3. 

, Biological origin of the, 8. 
, Neglect of the, by psychologists, 47. 
Fees, waiters, etc., Politico - economic 

meaning of, no. 
Feigning of animals, 151. 



Female superiority, 86, 87, 350. 

sex primary and male secondary, 86, 

87,350. 
, Brain exercise by the, 151. 

intuition, 174, 180. 
, Purpose of, 175. 

mind, Characteristics of the, 174, 177, 

179, 194. 

trunk of the intellect, 179, 208. 
Fichte, 10. 

Fine arts distinguished from the prac- 
tical, 211. 

Fishes, Female superiority in, 87. 
Flagellata, 315. 
Flowers, Origin of, 48, 84. 

in the Lower Cretaceous, 84, 85. 
Fontaine, Wm. M., 85. 

Force, Psychic, 94, 95. 

, Brute, 140, 141. 

Forces the test of a true science, i, 91. 

, Social. See Social Forces. 

Foresight, 156, 184. 

Fox, Cunning of the, 148, 150, 164. 

Freedmen of the South, 165. 

Friction, Social, 102, 288, 309. 

vs. action, 103, 104. 

Frog, Experiments on the brain of the, 

143- 

Fruits, Origin of, 49, 85. 
Full intuition, Stage of, 144. 
Function. See Feeling. 

Galapagos, Tameness of animals on 

the, 144. 
Galileo, 10, 218. 
Galvani, 203. 

Game, Effect of man on, 144, 145. 
Ganglionic centers, Hierarchy of, 32. 
Generalization, 27. 
Genetic vs. ideological processes, vi. 

development, 245, 253. 

of the intellect, 141, 224, 305. 

Genius, Inventive, 196. 

, Implications of the term, 198. 

, Creative, 208. 

, Speculative, 214. 

Genlisea ornata, 185. 



Index. 



359 



'Geological development of the soul, 48. 
George Eliot, 281, 336, 337. 

, cited, 281. 

German school of philosophy, 10. 

Germ-plasm, Continuity of the, 38. 

Germs, Immortal, 38. 

Goethe, 122, 337, 338. 

, cited, 63. 

Golden rule, 105. 

Goldscheider on pain nerves, 21. 

Goldsmith, Oliver, 338, 349. 

, , cited, 51, 349. 

Gorilla, 255. 

Gournay, 241, 336, 337, 338, 348, 349. 

Government of bees, 238. 

, Origin of, 284. 

, Benefits of, 285. 

a universal or complete social aggre- 

gate, 295. 
, Who constitute a? 296. 

the organ of social consciousness, 

297. 

always more or less representative, 

300, 301. 

, Powers of, derived from the will, 
not the "consent" of the gov- 
erned, 300, 304. 

, Functions of, 302. 

, Forms of, 316, 317. 
- as a mode of acquisition, 317. 

, Popular fear and distrust of, 317. 

, A people's, 329. 

, Limitation of the functions of. See 
laissez faire. 

Governmental failures, 301, 302. 

Governments, Modern, responsive to 
the social will, 303. 

, , Weakness of, 321. 

all empirical, 316. 

Gravitation, Utilization of the law of, 

188. 

Gray, Asa, 75, 338. 
, , cited, 249. 

Greatest happiness problem, 74, 282. 
Greece, Cosmologies of, 9. 
Grouse, Pinnated, 145, 149. 
, Ruffed, 149. 



Gullibility of the public, 158, 166. 
Gunpowder, Invention of, 188. 

Haeckel, Ernst, 349, 338. 

, , cited, 44. 

Hallucination, 65. 

Hamilton, Sir William, 10, 338. 

, , cited, 20, 215. 

Happiness, 71. 

, Existence of, requires proof, 66. 

not essentially different from plea- 

sure, 71. 

defined, 71. 

, Conditions to, 72, 73, 74. 

, Effects of different diseases on, 72. 

, Problem of greatest, 74, 282. 

, Organization of, 308. 

Hartley, David, 338, 339. 

, , cited, 20, 25, 339. 

Hartmann, Eduard von, 64, 69, 292, 339. 

Hawks, Female superiority in, 87. 

Head of nature, 93. 

Health, 72, 73. 

Hearing, Sense of, 19. 

Heart of nature, 92. 

Hegel, 10. 

Herodotus, 339. 

, cited, 312. 

Herring, Fecundity of, 246. 

Hillel, 105. 

History, Proper subject of, 97. 

as an aid to the legislator, 311. 
Hobbes, 10, 122. 

Homogeneity, social, Importance of, 

301. 
Human form not necessary to a rational 

being, 136. 

nature, Prevailing ignorance of, 158. 

, Apparent baseness of, 166. 

not essentially bad, 289, 290. 

, Meliorism and sociocracy require 

no change in, 289, 308, 328. 
Humboldt, Alexander, 339. 
, , cited, 63-64. 
Humbug, Love of, 158. 
Hume, 10, 13, 60. 
Hunger, 40, 53. 



3 6 



Index. 



Hunger, Pangs of, 40, 54. 
Hunting stage, 186. 
Hutcheson, David, 333. 
, Francis, 340. 
, , cited, 282. 
Huxley, T. H., 340. 
, , cited, 246, 292. 

Idea, The Platonic, 13, 27. 
, Society an, 99. 
Ideal, Absorption in the, 213. 
Idealism, 13, 60, 224. 
Ideation, 34. 

always involves feeling, 226. 
Ideo-motor apparatus, 30, 33. 
Illegitimate agencies in biology, 82, 83, 

84, 88, 89. 

Imagination, 28, 126, 137, 210. 
Imitative instincts, 253. 
Immorality, 108. 

of intellectual action, 182. 
Immortal germs, 38. 
Immortality, 45. 
Inadaptation, Social, 100. 
Incipient intuition, 143. 

intellect, 146, 224. 
India, Cosmology of, 9. 
Indifferent sensations, 16, 39. 
Indirect method of conation, vi, 138, 

190, 235. 

Indirection, 153, 344. 
Individualism, 99, 100, 101, 319, 347. 
Industrial activity, Origin of, 157. 

party in America, 328, 329. 
Ingenuity, 184. 

, Animal, 185. 
- in law making, 306. 
Inheritance of acquired characters, 220, 

221. 

Initial means to social progress, 316. 
Insects, Influence of, on plants. 48, 81, 

84. 

, Early appearance of, explained, 183. 
Instinct, The maternal, as a stimulus 

to brain development, 151. 
Instincts resembling rational acts, 185, 

2 33- 



Instincts, Imitative, 253. 

Institutions, Influence of human, 156, 

157- 

Integration, Social, 315. 
Intellect, The, 222. 

a directive agent, vi, 5, 231. 

, Mind popularly restricted to, 3. 
, Practical side of, 4, 145, 149. 

untrustworthy unless instructed, 43. 

secondary to the will and relatively 

modern, 61, 89, 133. 
- an accident, 61, 89, 139, 209. 

the product of illegitimate agencies, 

88, 89. 

a product and not a cause of nature, 

133- 
, Origin of, 133, 136, 141, 305. 

a servant of the will, 139, 148, 155, 

198, 262, 305. 
, Initial steps in the development of, 

I4off. 
, Genetic development of, 141, 224, 

305- 
, Incipient, 146, 224. 

in animals, 149, 150. 

, Male and female trunks of the, 179, 

208. 
, Exercise of, essentially immoral, 

181, 182. 
, point at which it freed itself from 

the will, 198. 
, how it became part of the will, 198, 

229. 

not a force, 222, 23off. 

, Acts of, psychoses, 225, 234. 

distinguished from consciousness, 

226. 

knowledge, 227. 

, how it expresses itself, 227, 235, 

236. 

, in what sense a cause, 231. 
, The two stimuli of the, 232. / 
, Modus operandi of the, 232, 234. 
, The social, 305, 315. 
Intellection, 227, 305. 
Intellectual operations, 26, 227. 

direction, Psychology of, 234^ 



Index. 



361 



Intellectual activities, Classification of, 

235 236. 

Intelligence, 229, 230. 
Intensive sensations, 21, 39. 
Intuition, 29, 133, 138, 139, 169, 170. 
, Incipient, 143. 

Full, 144- 

- a perception of relations, 145, 146, 

149, 161, 170, 182, 192, 234. 

the incipient intellect, 146, 224. 

, Male and female, of equal import- 
ance, 169, 1 80. 

a psychological unit, 172. 
, Popular, 173. 

, Female, 174-180. 

, Positive or active, vs. negative or 

passive, 179. 
, Subjective and objective, or egoistic 

and disinterested, 191. 

- undifferentiated intellect, 224. 

compared to protoplasm, 224. 
Intuitive faculty, 5, 29, 133, 282. 

- perception, 147, 153, 161, 169. 

reason, 153, 154, 161, 169. 

, The various forms of, 161. 

- judgment, 169, 174. 

of equal value with reason, 169. 

an undecomposable mental act, 

171, 175, 176. 

egoistic, 172. 

, Deception not involved in, 179. 
Invention, Essential nature of, vi, 181, 

194, 195. 
, Psychology of, 190 19^. 

- objective or disinterested intuition, 

191. 
, Effect of, on character, 192, 193. 

vs. discovery, 202. 

, Mental aberration in, 204. 
, Legislation as, 238, 305-307, 309. 
Inventions, The great progressive, 188. 
Inventive faculty, 181. 
- , Origin of the, 185. 

compared with other forms of 

intuition, 190, 193. 

- imperfectly developed in women, 
. 194, 206. 



Inventive faculty, Cultivation of the, 
196, 203-207. 

, Popular deficiency of the, 205, 

206, 207. 

genius, 196. 

underlies scientific discovery, 202. 
Inventors, Character of, 192. 

honored by the ancients, 196, 197. 
Iron law of wages, Ricardo's, 242, 320. 
Itching, 57. 

James, Edmund J., 340. 

, , cited, 265-266. 

Judgment, 27, 126, 137. 
, Intuitive, 169, 174. 

Kant, Immanuel, 3, 10, 14, 47, 48, 146,. 

209, 218, 219, 340. 
, , cited, 12, 15, 71. 
Keely motor, 204. 
Kepler, 10, 218. 
King, Clarence, 259, 340. 
Knowledge necessary to safe reasoning, 

43- 

distinguished from intellect, 227. 
, Active vs. passive, 227. 

, Subjective and objective, 227. 
, Experience a form of, 228. 
, Pleasure in acquiring, 229. 

Labor, All, skilled, 199, 232, 233. 

, Compensation for the hardship of, 

201. 
, True meaning of, 258. 

and capital, 264. 

, The struggle to escape productive, 

272. 
Laissez faire, 241, 319, 349. 

sound doctrine in ethics, 102. 

- philosophers, 283. 

, Comte on, 240. 

, Spencer on, 242, 320, 331, 347. 

, Huxley on, 292. 

, John Stuart Mill on, 331. 
Lamarck, Jean, 121. 
Land animals, 183. 
La Rochefoucauld, 340, 341, 344. 



362 



Index. 



La Rochefoucauld, cited, 155, 163. 
Le Conte, Joseph, 341. 

, , cited, 221, 240, 292, 314. 

Legislation as invention, 238, 305, 306, 

37 309- 

, Attractive, 306. 
, Scientific, 309, 312, 330. 

by committees, 310. 

the executive branch, 310. 
, The statistical method of, 311. 
Leibnitz, ii, 10. 

Leroy, George, 148. 

Lewes, George Henry, 27. 

Life, organic, Object of, 75. 

, , Origin of, 133. 

, Struggle of, with nature, 78. 

Littre, 123, 336. 

Livingstone, 165. 

Locke, 10, 14, 218. 

Logic as a field for speculative genius, 

220. 

Logicians, Mistakes of, 170, 171. 
Love, 53. 

a form of pain, 54. 

the type of the desires, 94. 

compared to magnetism, 94. 
Lucretius, 9, 341. 

, cited, 51. 

Lyman, D., 159, 341, 344, 345. 

Macaulay, 341. 

, cited, 282. 

Machinery, Era of, 188. 

Magnet, 94. 

Magnetism, Psychic force compared 

to, 94. 
Mahar, 164. 

Mainlander, Philip, 59, 339, 341. 
, , cited, 59. 
Majority rule, 324, 325. 
Male fertilizing agents, 86. 

supremacy an anomaly, 87. 

and female intuition equally im- 

portant, 169, 1 80. 
trunks of the intellect, 179, 

208. 
Malthus, 134, 341. 



Malthus, cited, 242. 

Malthusian doctrine, 134, 242, 278, 279. 
Mammals, Male supremacy in, ex- 
plained, 87, 88. 

Man, Object of, 78, 79, 80, 130. 
, Physical inferiority of, 98. 
, Transformations wrought by, 98. 
, Fear of, by animals, 144. 

as a rational being, 236. 

and nature, Methods of, contrasted, 

256. 

Manual training, 207. 
Mars, Supposed artificial canals of, 256. 
Martineau, James, 230. 
Material civilization progressive, 201. 
Maternal instinct as a stimulus to brain 

development, 151. 

Mathematics as a field for the specula- 
tive genius, 219, 220. 
Maudsley, Henry, 342. 
, , cited, 117. 
Means, Conversion of, into ends, 145, 

234, 235. 

, Initial, to social progress, 316. 
Meliorism, 70, 281. 

requires no change in human nature, 

289, 308, 328. 

a social, not an ethical doctrine, 290. 
Memory, 28, 126, 137. 

, Desire presupposes, 50, 52. 

Mental physics, 34, 55, 56, 91. 

Metabolism, 40, 234. 

Metaphysics, 10, 91, 218. 

Methods of nature and man contrasted, 

256. 
Mill, John Stuart, 342. 

, , cited, 155, 174, 331. 

Mind studied in the inverse order, i, 

138. 

popularly restricted to intellect, 3. 
, Dual nature of, 3, 12, 14, 125. 

, Illogical classifications of, 4. 

, Causational factor of, ignored, 4. 

, An undescribed faculty of the, 4, 

133- 

, Connection between the depart- 
ments of, 14. 



Index 



363 



Mind, Physics of, 34, 55, 56, 91. 

, Origin of, 39. 

, Dynamics of, 91, 129. 

, Era of, 136, 321, 322. 

, Order of development in, 138. 

, Biological origin of, 138, 139. 

usually treated as a special creation, 

141. 
, Male and female characteristics of, 

179. 

, Early speculations upon, 218. 
, Onto- and phylogenesis of, 223. 
, The "mystery" of, 225. 
, Chief obstacle to the study of, 

225. 

a property of matter, 225. 

in nature, 23off. 
Mind-forces, 55. 

Misarchists, The school of, 296, 303. 
Misarchy, 317, 321. 

Modes of acquisition. See acquisition. 
Monarchy, 316. 

Monopoly, Forms of, 167, 168, 265. 
, Antidotes to, 239. 
- prices, 265, 322, 327. 

prevents waste, 266. 
, Natural, 329. 
Montaigne, 342. 

, cited, v. 
Moral sense, The, 22. 
, , dulled, by iteration of pre- 
cepts, 1 06. 

laws self-executing, 102, 107, 108. 

precepts, No improvement in, 105. 

cowardice, 106, 107. 

teaching, Demoralizing effect of, 

106, 107. 

progress, The real, 112, 113. 
, Negative vs. positive, 113. 

Morals the effect, not the cause of the 
social state, 107, 108. 

More, Sir Thomas, 342. 

, , cited, 155, 314, 315. 

Mosquito, The male, little known, 87. 

Motion, Perpetual, 204. 

Motor apparatus of the nervous sys- 
tem, 30. 



Motors, Alleged self-acting, 204. 
Multiplication of chances, 250. 
Mystery of mind, 225. 
, Properties of matter all involve, 

225. 
Mythology, Origin of, 217. 

Natural vs. artificial, vi, 286. 

selection, 200, 201, 251. 
laws, Uniformity of, 243. 

. economy, 245. 

monopoly, 329. 

Nature and life, The struggle between, 

78. 

, Object of, 78, 79, 80, 129, 130. 
, Heart of, 92. 
, Head of, 93. 
, Unseen powers of, 214, 216. 
, Mind in, 23off. 

easily managed, 232. 

, Economics of, 239, 250, 251, 256. 
, Prodigality of, 239, 246, 253. 

at once practical and prodigal, 251. 
, Failures and successes of, 251-253. 

imitates mind, 253. 

- and man, Methods of, contrasted, 
256. 

has no true economy, 256. 
Necessaries, Relativity of the term, 

*57- 

Nerves, Afferent and efferent, 30. 
Nervous system, Cerebro-spinal and 

sympathetic, 23, 24. 

a compound individual, 32. 

Neurosis and psychosis, 225, 234. 

, Cerebral, 227. 

Newberry, J. S., 84, 85, 342. 

Newton, Sir Isaac, 10, 218. 

Nichols, Herbert, 21, 342. 

, , cited, 8, 139. 

Nihilism, 224. 

, Administrative, 292. 

Nisus, The universal, 55. 

Normal and extra-normal development, 

82. 

Nutrition, Pleasure a guide to, 40. 
Nuts, Origin of, 86. 



Index. 



Object and subject, Antithesis of, 17. 

of organic life, 75. 
sentient beings, 78. 

nature, 78, 79, 80, 129, 130. 

man, 78, 79, 80, 130. 

society, 80, 130. 

the organism, 129. 

evolution, 129. 

Objective and subjective psychology, 3, 

5, 17, 25, 62, 125. 
evolution, 183. 

intuition, 191. 
knowledge, 227. 

factors of civilization, 131. 

Occult phenomena of the universe, 216. 

Odors, Theory of, 18. 

Omitted factor of civilization, 133. 

Ontogenesis of mind, 223. 

Ontological obstacle to the study of 

mind, 225. 
Optimism, True meaning of, 66. 

not the antidote to pessimism, 70. 
, Normal effects of, 158, 165. 
Optimistic hallucination, 65. 

Oral communication, 236. 
Organic life, Object of, 75. 

development, 82. 
Organism, Object of the, 129. 
Organization of happiness, 308. 
Orientalism, 40. 
Ornamentation, 187. 

Owen, Dr. W. B., 343. 

Pain, Natural genesis of, 8. 

protective, 40. 

- essentially bad, 42, 43. 
, Negative and positive, 50. 
, Desire a form of, 54. 
, Ordinary, distinguished from desire, 

56. 
, Nature indifferent to, 182. 

and pleasure. See pleasure and 

pain. 

Pain-nerves, 21. 
Pain-pleasure, 21. 
Pain-sense, Feeling a, 21. 
Palestine, 9. 



Pangs of hunger, 40, 54. 

Paradoxes, Economic, 277-279. 

Parasitism, Social, 167. 

Party government, 325. 

, An industrial, in America, 328, 329. 

Parwari, 164. 

Pascal, Blaise, 343. 

, , cited, 9, 50, 63, 239, 305. 

Pastoral stage, 186. 

Patten, Simon N., 120, 343. 

, , cited, 266-271. 

Percept, 17. 

Perception, 17, 25, 26, 126, 137. 

of relations, 145, 146, 149, 161, 170, 

182, 192, 234. 

truth, 170. 

- utility, 192, 196, 199, 207. 

, Intuitive, 147, 153, 161, 169. 

Perceptions, Registration and elabora- 
tion of, 26. 

Perfection, Structural, a means, not an 
end, 75. 

Perpetual motion, 204. 

Persia, Cosmology of, 9. 

Pessimism, 78. 

, Ultimate answer to, 40. 

, Claims of, 58. 

, Schopenhauer's, 60. 

, Refutation of, 63. 

denies the existence of pleasure, 64. 

the product of a hostile environ- 

ment, 69. 

, its antidote not optimism but melior- 
ism, 70. 

Phenicia, Cosmology of, 9. 

Philippine Islanders, 164. 

Philosophy, Two kinds of, 9. 

, German school of, 10. 

, Scottish school of, 10, 14. 

, Revolutions in, n, 48. 

limited to the derivative faculties, 

209. 

, True scope of, 215. 
Phylogenesis of mind, 223. 
Physics of mind, 34, 55, 56, 91. 
, Social, 130. 
Physiocracy, 318. 



Index. 



365 



Physiocrats, 241, 318, 336, 337. 
Pinnated grouse, 145, 149. 
Plant-lice, Fecundity of, 247. 
Plants that seem to act rationally, 185. 
Plastic, Survival of the, 259, 340. 
Plato, 10, 13, 218. 
Platonic idea, 13, 27. 
Pleasure and pain, Origin and Function 
of, 36- 

not necessary, 38. 

conditions to the existence of 

plastic organisms, 38, 39. 

not opposites, 41. 

both positive, 42. 

, Nature indifferent to, 42. 

, Specialized nerves of, 42. 

, Spencer on, 43. 

, Hartmann on, 64, 69. 

, Schopenhauer on, 64, 69, 181. 

, Purpose of, 127. 

, Relative amounts of, in the 

world, 181. 

a greater mystery than pain, 38. 
, Genesis of, 40. 

essentially good, 43. 

, Presentative and representative, 57, 

67, 68. 

, Existence of, requires proof, 66. 
, Physiological nature of, 68. 

an objective reality,^. 
, Esthetic, 213. 

Pliny the Younger, 343. 

, cited, 51. 

Plutarch, 343. 

, cited, 195, 343. 

Plutocracy, 319-323. 

Political economy, The old, 134, 243, 

244. 
, , Axioms of, 277. 

, only applicable to animals, 

279. 

, favorable to plutocracy, 

3*9- 
based on the uniformity of natural 

phenomena, 243. 
Pollen, Superabundance of, 247. 
Pope, Alexander, 341, 343, 344. 



Pope, Alexander, cited, 103, 132. 
Population, Principle of, 242, 280. 
Postal telegraphy, 326. 
Poverty, Universal dread of, 165. 
Powell, J. W., 344. 

, , cited, 215. 

Practical character of the intellect, 4, 

145, 149. 
, Definition of the, 211. 

vs. fine art, 211. 

, In what sense nature is, 251. 

Prairie hen, 145, 149. 

Presentative pleasure, 57, 67. 

Prodigality of nature, 239, 246-253. 

Production, True meaning of, 258. 

Progress, The true moral, 112, 113. 

, Conditions to, 132. 

, Comparative rapidity of human, 282. 

, Definition of, 287. 

, Initial means to social, 316. 

Properties of matter all involve mys- 
tery, 225. 

Property, Genesis of, 156. 

Proposition, Definition of a logical, 27. 

Protoplasm, 224. 

Provision, 156, 184. 

Prudence as a female trait, 180. 

Psychic force a form of the universal 
force, 56. 

compared to magnetism, 94. 

electricity, 95. 

, Direct proof of a, 95. 

not parallel with biologic develop- 

ment, 144. 

attraction, 145. 
Psychics, 56, 129. 
Psychogenesis, 223. 

Psychologic basis of sociology, 2, n, 97. 

process, The, 1 5. 

law the reverse of the biologic, 200, 

201, 259. 

economics, 244, 277. 
Psychology, Subjective and objective, 

3, 5, 17,62, 125, 219. 
, , 20, 62, 93, 97, 121, 126, 219. 
, Illogical classifications of, 4. 
, Theorems of, 5. 



366 



Index. 



Psychology, The new, 5, 224. 

distinguished from metaphysics, 9, 

224. 
, Objective, 25, 62. 

- of invention, 190. 

, Origin of modern, 218. 
, Chief obstacle to the progress of, 
225. 

of intellectual direction, 234. 
Psychometry, 65. 

Psychosis and neurosis, 225, 227, 234. 
Publius Syrus, 344. 

, cited, 159, 345. 
Pythagoras, 9. 

Quatrefages, 247. 
Quesnay, 336, 337, 345. 
, cited, 241. 

Rafflesia, 252. 
Railroad "deals," 168, 265. 
Rational actions, 33, 236. 
Rats, Sagacity of, 144, 153. 
Real estate "booms," 167. 
Reason, 28, 137, 236. 

- not a safe guide, 33. 
- , Sufficient, 60, 216. 

- of inferior rank to will, 61. 
, Intuitive, 153, 154, 161, 169. 
Reasoning, Abstract, 220. 
Recapitulation of Part I, 125. 
Reflex action, 31. 

Reform, Social, a constant necessity, 

100, 101. 

, The female idea of, 177. 
, Governmental, 283, 284. 

Spirit of, irrepressible, 287. 
Reformers, Social, 99. 

, , Impatience with, 283. 
, Women as, 177, 178. 
Refutation of pessimism, 63. 
Regulation vs. competition, 275. 
Reid, Thomas, 10", 14, 173, 345. 
Religion hedonistic, 43. 
Representative pleasure, 57, 68. 
Reproduction, Conditions to, 41. 

- not the object of sex, 41, 86. 



Reproduction a form of nutrition, 86. 

Republics, 316. 

Ricardo, 134, 320, 345. 

, cited, 242. 

Riley, C. V., 350. 

" Rings," Municipal, 167. 

Rivalry, 53, 275. 

Ross, E. A., 278. 

Ruffed grouse, 149. 

Rumbold, Richard, 282. 

Russia, Social condition of, 300. 

Sagacity, 29, 128, 148, 152. 
, Synonyms of, 153. 
St. Augustine, 9. 
Salluste, Guillaume de, 337. 
Satisfaction of desire, 55, 65. 
Satz vom Grunde, 60. 
Schelling, 345. 
, cited, 59. 
Schiaparelli, 256. 

Schopenhauer, Arthur, 60, 62, 64, 69, 
89, 92, 181, 209, 213, 282, 292, 

2 93> 345' 346. 
, , cited, i, 25, 37, 51, 59, 63, 117, 

133' T 39> 147, M8, 155, 197* 198, 
222. \ 

Scientific discovery, 202, 203. 

methods, 221. 

legislation, 309, 312, 330. 
Scipio the Younger, 45. 

Scottish school of philosophy, 10, 14. 

Self-interest, Universality of, 158. 

Sensation, 16, 20. 

, Indifferent, 16, 39. 

, Intensive, 21. 

, Kant on, 47, 48. 

defined, 125. 

Sensations, Internal and external, 23. 

, Classification of, 125. 

Sense, The sixth, 22. 

, emotional, 22, 23, 126, 127. 

Senses, 18, 19, 126. 

, Media of the, 19. 

Sensori-motor apparatus, 31, 33. 

Sentiency, 39. 

Sentient beings, Object of, 78. 



Index. 



367 



Sex, Object of, 41, 86. 

Sexes, Inequality of the, and its cause, 

49- 

Sexual differentiation, 86. 
Shakespeare, 122. 
Shelter, 187. 

Shrewdness, 155, 158, 159. 
Sight, Sense of, 19. 
Silence, The art of, 159, 349. 
Simplicity of important truths, 118. 
Sinnlichkeit, 47. 
Sixth sense, 22. 
Smell, Sense of, 18, 19. 
Smith, Adam, 241, 346. 
, , cited, 241. 
, Eugene, 85. 
Social forces, vi, 116. 

, Nature of the, i, 81. 

, Control of the, i, 5, 115. 

, Psychologic basis of the, 2. 

, Classification of the, 116. 

, Adumbrations of the principle of, 

116, 117. 
, History of the conception of, 

118, 119. 

statics and dynamics, i. 

action, 96, 97, 98, 103, 104, 288. 

reforms and reformers, 99, 101, 283. 

inadaptation, 100. 
classes, 101. 

friction, 102, 288, 309. 

energy, Liberation of, 114. 

organism theory, 122, 274, 297-299, 

3'5> 3 T 6- 

transformations, 129. 

physics, 130. 

parasitism, 167. 

synthesis of the factors of civiliza- 

tion, 237. 

consciousness, 291, 315. 

units, 293. 

aggregates, 294. 
- will, The, 300. 

homogeneity, Importance of, 301. 

intellect, The, 305, 315. 

science vs. social art, 314, 315. 

integration, 315. 



Social progress, Initial means to, 316. 

problems, 326, 330, 331. 
Socialism, 328, 330. 

Society, Dynamic and directive ele- 
ments of, vi, 5, 230, 231, 233. 
, Object of, 80, 130. 

the beneficiary of social action, 98. 

unconscious, 99. 

- only an idea, 99. 

, Reforms in, 100, 101. 

not rational, 273. 

represents a low organism, 274. 

as an individual, 324. 
Sociocracy, 313, 323, 

a modification of democracy, 324. 
, how it will operate, 326, 330. 

- requires no change in human nature, 

328. 
Sociology, Psychologic basis of, 2, ir, 

97- 
, Standpoint of, the opposite of that 

of ethics, in. 

founded and named by Comte, 121- 

123. 
, Biologic basis of Herbert Spencer's, 

122, 134, 243. 

, Dynamic. See dynamic sociology. 
Socrates, 10. 
Solon, 312, 339, 346. 
Sophocles, 346. 
, cited, 312, 346. 
Soul, 83, 92. 
, Speculations on the nature of, 13. 

- a popular, not a technical term, 44. 
, Proper meaning of the term, 44, 46. 
, Reasons for retaining the word, 45. 

always endowed with feeling, 46. 
, Geological development of the, 48. 
, Origin of the, 48, 83, 133, 135. 

the transforming agent, 200. 
South, Robert, cited, 349. 
Sowrahs, 164. 
Speculation, History of metaphysical, 

10. 
Speculations in grain defended, 241, 

242. 
Speculative genius, 214. 



368 



Index. 



Speech, 236. 

and silence, The art of, 1 59. 
Spencer, Herbert, 43, 104, 105, in, 121, 

122, 134, 164, 165, 182, 207, 242, 
243 3'4 3 20 33 r > 346, 347. 

, , cited, 15, 16, 36, 50, 71, 91, 103, 
107, 116, 163, 171, 175, 176, 197, 
230, 231, 238, 245, 248, 249. 

Spiders, Female superiority in, 87. 

Spinoza, 10, 105, 122, 347. 

, cited, 30, 43, 50, 147. 

Stages in civilization, 186. 

Stanley, Hiram M., 359. 

, , cited, 21, 37, 47, 138. 

State functions, Limitation of. See 
laissez faire. 

Statesman, Definition of a, 312. 

Statics, Social, i. 

Statistics, Function of, 311. 

Steam, Discovery of the power of, 
188. 

Stewart, Dugald, 10, 14. 

Stock-watering schemes, 167. 

Stoics, 9, 105. 

Strategy, 161, 306. 

Struggle for existence, 156, 157, 168. 
244. 

Subject and object, Antithesis of, 17. 

Subjective and objective psychology, 3, 
5, 17, 62, 125, 219. 

evolution, 83. 

intuition, 191. 

knowledge, 227. 

factors, 7. 

psychology, 20, 62, 93, 97, 121, 126, 

219. 

Subsistence and the means of subsist- 
ence, 156, 157. 

Sufficient reason, 60, 216. 

Sully, James, 338, 348. 

, , cited, 281. 

Sumner, W. G., 101, 348, 350. 

Supererogatory conduct, 108. 

Survival of the fittest, 168, 244, 251. 

plastic, 259, 340. 

Sympathetic nervous system, 23, 24. 

Syrus, Publius. See Publius Syrus. 



Tact, 155. 
Talleyrand, 349. 
Tameness of animals, 144. 
Taming of animals, 186. 
Taste, Sense of, 18, 19, 40. 

in animals, 88. 
Taylor, Jeremy, 348. 
, , cited, 64. 

, Sir Henry, 348. 

, ., cited, 206. 

Telegraphy, Postal, 326. 

Teleological vs. genetic processes, vi. 

Teleology, Evolutionary, 75. 

Thales, 9. 

Theology, Origin of, 217. 

Theorems of psychology, 5. 

Thirst, 53. 

Thought, The raw material for, 30. 

a form of feeling, 226. 
, The stream of, 226. 

Tips, Politico-economic meaning of, 

no. 

Tocqueville, De, 230. 
Touch, Sense of, 19. 
Transcendental biology, 242. 
Transformations wrought by human 

action, 90, 98, 129. 
Transforming agencies, 49, 128, 135, 

200. 
Transmission of acquired characters, 

220, 221. 

Trusts, 167, 265. 

Truth defined, 27. 

, Perception of, 170. 

, Value of, for its own sake, 203. 

Truths, Slow progress of great, 123. 

, Simplicity of important, 118. 

Turgot, 241, 336, 337, 338, 348, 349. 

Tylor, E. B., 45. 

Uganda, Untruthfulness of the people 

of, 164. 
Unconscious, Society to be regarded 

as, 99. 

cerebration, 226. 

, The, of Hartmann, 226, 293. 
Units, Social, 293. 



Index. 



369 



Universe, Occult phenomena of the, 

214, 216. 

Utility, Biological, 76. 
, Perception of, 192, 196, 199, 207. 
Variation as the object of sex, 41, 86. 
Veracity, Spencer on, 163-165. 
Vibrations, Hartley's theory of, 20, 339. 
Volta, 203. 
Voltaire, 60, 349. 
, cited, 159. 
Voluntary action, 30. 
Vulpinism, 150. 

Wages, Ricardo's iron law of, 242, 

320. 

Wallace^ Alfred Russel, 215. 
Waning types of life, 252, 253. 
Want, 53. 

War as a stimulus to mind, 161, 187. 
Wealth a test of worth, 166. 
, Unequal distribution of, 287. 
Weapons, Natural and artificial, 187, 

188, 254. 
Weismann, August, 38, 41, 86, 220, 221, 

35 T 352- 
, , cited, 26, 27, 245. 



Whately, Bishop, 170, 352. 

, , cited, 171. 

Will, 30, 34, 35. 

Will, Early views of the, 13. 

- a popular, not a technical term, 44. 
: of Schopenhauer, 59, 92, 282. 

equivalent to desire, 60, 61. 

- to live, Assertion of the, 61. 
, Denial of the, 213. 

, Intellect a servant of the, 139, 148, 

155, 198, 262, 305. 
, The social, 300. 
Wille, 60, 61. 

Wolf, Sagacity of the, 148, 152. 
Woman, Worth of, 93, 180. 
, Conservatis'm of, 174, 177, 178, 194. 
, Caution of, 176. 
not inventive, 194, 206. 
Woman's intuition, 174. 
Women as reformers, 177, 178. 
Worth, of woman, 93, 180. 
, Wealth as a test of, 166. 
Written communication, 236. 

Youmans, E. L., 352. 
, , cited, 248. 



RETURN 



CIRCULATION DEPARTMENT 

198 Main Stacks 



LOAN PERIOD 1 
HOME USE 


2 


3 


4 


5 


6 



ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS. 

Renewls and Recharges may be made 4 days prior to the due date. 

Books may be Renewed by calling 642-3405. 



DUE AS STAMPED BELOW 


SEP 3 1 19$ 












OCT 111999 





























































FORM NO. DD6 



UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY 
BERKELEY CA 94720-6000 



YC 45081 




UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY